Without Walls
by Solstice Muse
Summary: Ron,Lee,Fergus & Tommy are free again and back home with their loved ones.Everything should be happy now right?Right?It turns out there's more to recovering from captivity that simply stepping outside the walls that held you.Rated M for sexual situations.
1. Strange and Beautiful

**Without Walls**

_A/N This is the follow-up fic to Within These Walls. You don't have to have read that fic to understand this one but I must warn you this fic will be full of spoilers so if you plan to read WTW then avoid reading this one first._

_Much love and hugs to my beta Deena and my therapy and trauma consultant Amy (see the title I gave you? Don't you sound important?) and , as ever, eternal gratitude to my Dutch language beta Maaike - if it weren't for her I'd have Ron talking about soapy water (automated on-line translators suck!)_

**Strange and Beautiful**

Just watching Pig fly around the bedroom was fascinating.

The way the windows seemed huge and they opened wide enough to climb through was something he'd never noticed before. His bedroom door had a handle that was never locked. He could stare at his hands all day and they looked just the same as they always had. He still had those long fingers that fumbled the Quaffle so many times and curled around it in an important save. His fingernails were still stumpy from his lifetime habit of biting them. His skin was tough from a raucous childhood.

Those hands could be washed but they could never be clean.

"Ron?"

Ron looked up and blinked at Harry who was sitting up in the bed across from him.

"Huh?"

"Are you all right?" Harry put on his glasses and squinted across the garishly orange bedroom at his best friend.

Ron turned to glance at the clock on his bedside table. It was ten minutes to four in the morning.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?" Ron muttered with a slight cringe.

"I was sleeping and then I wasn't," Harry shrugged, pulling back the bedcovers and turning to face Ron full on. "I can't say if it had anything to do with you being awake or not. Now answer my question. Are you all right?"

Ron smiled and nodded simply.

"Is something wrong with your hands?" Harry asked softly, concern present, as ever, in his voice.

Ron realised he was still holding his hands before him as if they were foreign objects and quickly set them down on the covers and laughed self consciously.

"Nah, they're fine, I'm just trying to make myself bored enough to go back to sleep."

Ron shifted beneath the covers and turned on his side, his back to Harry, and willed his best friend to let it go for now.

"Night, Harry."

"You _can_ talk to me, y'know?" Harry called across the room as loud as he could do at such an early hour. "I want to...I don't want you feel like you can't..."

"Goodnight, Harry."

* * *

Every five minutes felt like fifty. 

He kept on telling himself he had hours before he could reasonably show up at the Weasleys' place without looking like an obsessive nutter. Ron's mum would always be up at around six in the morning, fussing, tidying, cooking and she didn't seem to mind when Lee stumbled out of the fireplace to casually ask if Ron was up yet.

Of course, he wasn't up yet. He would sleep late every day since he got out of the hospital. Lee guessed it was because Ron didn't sleep well at night to begin with. It was too early to get up, too early to Floo to The Burrow, too early to send an owl anywhere...

Lee felt as if he was living in a different time zone than everybody else in the world.

He almost willed Fergus' mother to call again, apologising profusely and hands shaking, as she asked him if he'd seen her son recently. Lee was beginning to wonder if Fergus had the right idea. Maybe they should all just drink themselves silly and make it all go away. People expected it, they were bound to excuse it–-they did for Fergus after all.

He sat up in his bed and drew his knees up under his chin.

"I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air..." he began to half sing, half hum to himself while he willed the dawn to break. "They fly so high, nearly reach the sky..."

His mother had a theory.

"And like my dreams they fade and die."

She had told him he was an addict. He was addicted to sport and followed it obsessively until it was all he could think about, all he could talk about, and then he became addicted to mischief and fun. He got hooked on the twins and their company. He loved the buzz he got from coming up with ways to solve unsolvable problems and ways to cause unsolvable problems with a cocky flair.

"Fortune's always hiding..."

His mother had held him to her late one night after she'd forced him to down some Dreamless Sleeping Draught and they were waiting for the veil of sleep to fall over him. While the two of them rocked from side to side she sighed and told him he had a new obsession and he couldn't keep it up and remain healthy.

"...I looked everywhere..."

She told him he was addicted to taking care of Ron. She said he was addicted to Ron himself. Lee couldn't deny it; he would look for him whenever he woke; he would reach for him in his sleep and wake in a panic on not finding him nearby.

"I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air."

He missed his brother.

* * *

He couldn't stand gin. Gin was fucking awful. He'd rather lick the inside of a tramp's ear than drink neat gin. 

Fergus poured himself a generous helping from his mother's bottle of Blue Sapphire and grimaced. The only alcohol left in the house was his Ma's and she thought he didn't know about her secret gin stash.

He always knew where to find it but never once broke the seal on the bottle because, as had always been the case, he thought gin was to booze what bathwater was to soup. The landlords and ladies of the local pubs had all been warned off serving him by his interfering Ma. He didn't get it; it wasn't as if he was out of control or anything. The way his Ma went on at him made it sound as if he couldn't handle his drink.

Well, mothers were meant to fuss, weren't they?

He wasn't drinking to get drunk. He wasn't drinking to forget. He wasn't drinking to knock himself out. He was drinking because it passed the time in a more enjoyable way than sitting around and trying to figure out if he wanted to see the other lads or not.

Seamus would take him out most nights and match him drink for drink--he had to deal with losing Dean after all, and Fergus loved that his cousin didn't judge him for how he chose to deal with life on the outside. The thing was Fergus chose to deal with comments about his life on the inside as if he and the others were being judged for surviving at all.

When things looked to be getting volatile, Seamus would forcibly remove Fergus from the pub and get him home. That was why Fergus was now sitting in the living room and staring at a bottle of gin as if it was a crystal ball, about to reveal the point to everything.

Why did Tommy get sick?

Why did Ron get singled out for abuse?

Why did Lee lose all the skin off his back?

Why did Colin have to go back?

Why didn't Krum make it?

Why couldn't he look anybody in the eye without wondering if they were thinking of Danny Prang?

He unscrewed the cap and swigged straight from the bottle.

"Jaysis that's foul!"

* * *

The alarm went off as usual. He got up and padded to the bathroom, bleary-eyed, to wash his face roughly and have his morning pee. He heard his mother getting up while he stopped brushing his teeth for a moment to yawn and knew that he was in for another day just like the one before and the one before that. 

It's funny living through a nightmare when you were asleep for most of it.

Everybody was scarred for life and Tommy was simply the one who needed the blanks filled in for all the hours, days he spent unconscious. He didn't sleep on the floor. He didn't have to fight off the sexual advances of a perverted control freak. He didn't get tortured to spare the lives of others. He did barely anything other than be a burden, a bargaining tool, '_Don't hurt Tommy, take it out on me instead'_.

He was so brave, so strong, so admirable for living through such a harrowing experience.

So what was he for _sleeping_ through such a harrowing experience?

Fergus hadn't really spoken much when he'd gone to his house to chat or met up with him at the Ministry. Fergus was kind of elusive. None of the others saw much of him since they left the hospital and all the memorials and funerals were over with. Lee didn't seem to want to be on his own, not ever, if he wasn't at Ron's house he was Flooing into Tommy's living room for a chat or a walk or to help his mother fuss over him despite the fact he was fit and healthy now.

Then there was Ron. What on earth could you say to Ron?

It almost made Tommy angry when people showed him sympathy or compassion for his so-called ordeal and muttered under their breath about the things Ron had done to keep his own name way down on the execution list. Some people could make something as simple as a change of tone as they spoke Ron's name mean so much and it made Tommy's stomach squirm.

Ron didn't prostitute himself to the Puppet Master. He didn't offer himself up to stay alive. For days on end, Ron had to fight off a sadistic rapist and for what? For owls from strangers demanding Ron be locked up on St Mungo's secure ward for the criminally insane because his sexual assaults had driven him mad and that was why he mutilated the corpse of the Death Eater he had to kill to get away.

What went on within those walls hadn't been made public knowledge but rumour was always alive and subject to speculation and the vicious members of society decided that Ron Weasley had sunk to the lowest depths in order to stay alive.

Fortunately, most people had nothing but sympathy for the survivors of the ambush of the Ministry safe house in Venlo but then again, sympathy wasn't what was needed, either. Tommy didn't know how to fix anything, if anything could be fixed, or if he was going to be able to be the one to fix it but he knew that the only people who could help were the four of them themselves.

What good was Tommy to them? He didn't know, but he was going to be there for them now.

He was going to make up for not being there while hell was breaking loose. He had to have lived through all that for a reason. Ron, Lee and Fergus--they were his reason for being now.

He would pay them all back.

* * *

They were holding him down, pressing him flat against the table, and wrestling his clothes loose. A hand, a huge familiar hand, was touching his face and he tried to turn away from it but his whole face was muffled against something. He yelped in panic, they were suffocating him. 

"Ron."

He thrashed his arms free and threw off one of his assailants. That sickening caress cupped his face in both hands now and he tried to shake it off while squirming his body free from the others who were determined to hold him in place for their master.

"Ron, calm down!"

He frowned before feeling suddenly naked and lashing out with his arms and cracking something hard with his knuckles.

"Shit!" a familiar disgruntled voice hissed before Ron felt himself hauled into a sitting position and forcibly hugged tightly, almost lovingly. "It's okay, it's me, please wake up, Ron."

"Ger'off me!" Ron tried to contort his body away from the person's tight grip.

He saw the face of the person drawing nearer, into sharp focus, and froze in terror at the haughty look, the eyes burning with lust and the sneering curl of the mouth.

"No!" Ron pushed and kicked against the chest that was pressed firmly against his and soon the image of the Puppet Master and the sensation of touch fell away.

Ron was falling, too. He was falling backwards and his stomach was lurching. His eyes flung themselves open and brilliant morning sunlight stung his retinas as he toppled backwards off the bed. He saw a rapid blur amongst so much orange it made him feel as if he was trapped in a blazing fire and then something black caught him with a grunt. His fall was halted and the shaking arms around his body eased him down the last couple of inches to the bedroom floor before cradling him and panting heavily.

"'S okay Ron, I got you. It's Harry, it's only me…you're okay now."

Ron drew in a breath while pulling his long legs free from the bed sheet where they had become entangled and shrugged Harry off before crawling away from him and getting unsteadily to his feet.

"I know," Ron panted. "I'm fine. It's just a stupid dream…stop panicking will you?"

Harry remained on the floor beside Ron's bed and stared up at him, looking worried and hurt, but he didn't say anything. Ron quickly ran his hands over his body while scanning himself with his squinting eyes. He had a pair of boxers on and nothing else. As he moved toward the door with heavy footsteps, he grabbed a nearby t- shirt he'd thrown aside lazily the night before and pulled in on inside out.

"You were falling out of bed, Ron," Harry said as he began to rub at his cheekbone as if somebody had recently hit him. "That's the only reason I grabbed you. I'm really sorry."

"Stop it!" Ron hissed as he pulled the bedroom door open and looked back down at his best friend in a heap of bedclothes on the floor, "D-Don-Do-D..." he forced his eyes closed and punched at the door in frustration before taking a deep breath and trying again, this time looking at the door instead of Harry, "M-my fault, bad mo-morning an'I jus' n-n-need to..."

"You don't have to explain, Ron," Harry said, his voice sounding strained. "I'm not angry with you. Calm yourself down and I'll tidy up here and wait for you. We won't speak of it, I promise."

Ron tried to smile but it came out more of a wince and he nodded before rushing for the bathroom and shouldering the temperamentally jammed door open just as Charlie emerged from his bedroom, yawning deeply, and seeing is little brother disappearing into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

"Morning, Ron," Charlie had blinked.

"Yeah, okay."

Charlie frowned at Ron's odd response before turning to look at Harry standing in the bedroom doorway.

"S'my fault," Harry said glumly. "I touched him."

* * *

Lee sputtered as he stumbled out of the Floo into the kitchen at The Burrow. Molly wasn't the least bit surprised to see him; in fact, she had made him tea and toast. 

"Good morning dear…there's jam, marmalade and honey, whichever takes your fanc," Molly said as she busied herself stirring some porridge on the stove and then wandering away from the spoon, leaving it to stir by itself.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley." Lee sat down at the table. "Y'know my mum's starting to get insulted? She thinks I come over here all the time because you're a better cook than she is."

"Oh nonsense." Molly blushed. "I expect she just misses you around the place, Lee."

The boy lowered his head to focus intently on buttering his slice of toast as if it required the utmost level of concentration.

"Sick of me more like," he tried to joke. "Most people my age would have moved out and got their own place by now."

"Well, I don't care what age my children were, if they wanted to stay here with me they could," Molly puffed out her chest proudly, "and I know Floella feels the same about you, dear."

Lee peeped back at the witch through his dreadlocks and was about to open his mouth to say something when plodding footfalls on the stairs distracted the both of them and they stared at the open kitchen door expectantly. Harry stepped through, a tad self-conscious at being stared at, and muttered as he took a seat at the table.

"He's in the bathroom--coming down in a bit."

"Oh marvellous," Molly beamed strenuously, knowing that for her Ronnie to be up at such an early hour he must have had quite a nasty nightmare. "The porridge is almost ready. Do help yourself to toast, Harry, dear."

Ginny trudged into the kitchen, yawning, and bumped into a clumsy hug with her mother before throwing herself down into a vacant seat across from Harry.

"Owls been yet?" she asked sleepily.

"No," Molly replied darkly. "There were less of them yesterday, so I think it's calming down a bit now."

"About bloody time," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Fine, thanks Harry. How did you sleep?" Ginny said as she kicked her boyfriend in the shin beneath the table and reached for the blackberry jam.

"Sorry, Gin," Harry scowled at her playfully, "woke up a couple of times in the night and then got punched in the face this morning. Not bad, really."

Lee sat up in his seat and inclined his head toward Harry.

"Rough night?" he asked.

"Nah," Harry shook his head and smiled at Lee confidently, "He just fell out of bed this morning and objected to me diving and catching him before he knocked his front teeth out on the floor."

"Was he sleeping when you woke up in the night?" Lee probed further, unconvinced by Harry's bravado.

"Well, no, but he was fine, just sitting up and trying to count sheep, y'know how it is?" Harry became slightly defensive and it broke Molly's heart.

Harry had never had to share Ron with anyone before, not in friendship or caretaking duties, and he really wasn't handling Lee's newfound bond with his best friend well at all. It was true that one might say Harry had shared Ron with Hermione all those years but Ron and Hermione were different. Ron would confide in them both unless it was about man things and then it would just be him and Harry. If either of them wanted to talk emotions they would go to Hermione. When fun was needed they were there for each other and in times of trouble they were there even faster.

Hermione was their female friend who had become Ron's girlfriend and Harry was Ron's best friend in the world. Harry was the loyal caretaker and joker and brother and he'd never had anything like that before in his life. He didn't know how to deal with it at first and then he didn't know how to cope with the threat of losing it. Now, it seemed to Molly anyway, Harry was at a loss to understand Lee's role in Ron's life and where it left him.

Was Harry being replaced as friend or honorary brother? Was he usurped as Ron's protector and guardian? Lee had been there for Ron for the worst time of his young life and Lee had saved him in ways that Harry hadn't been able to. It was obvious that Harry resented Lee while at the same time loathing himself for feeling that way at all.

He'd once cried on Molly's shoulder, back when Ron and the others were still recovering in St Mungo's, about how selfish he was to only want Ron to have one true and devoted friend in the world.

'_I never had anything worth sharing in my whole life and I don't know if I can share at all, Mrs Weasley!_'

"So Lee," Ginny said, yawning again and covering her mouth at Molly's glare, "why don't you bring your poor mum with you to breakfast? There's plenty to go around."

"Yeah," Harry chipped in, "she must feel lonely having breakfast on her own every day."

Lee appeared to deliberately take his time chewing his mouthful of toast while they waited for his response. Arthur bounded through and kissed Molly on the cheek before grabbing some toast and waving a hasty goodbye and setting off to work. Everybody was still watching Lee as he swallowed and wiped his mouth.

"Well, the thing is, see..." he began, squirming in his seat slightly.

"M-Morning," Ron stepped into the kitchen, arms folded across his chest and slightly bashful smile on his face and he smiled at the room full of friends and family.

"Good morning, Ronnie," Molly leaned in towards her son before forcing herself to stop and gripping the counter with the effort, "take a seat, breakfast is ready."

Ron unfolded his arms and stepped into his mother's side. He quickly curled his arms around her and gave a gentle squeeze before pecking her on the cheek and sitting in the vacant chair between Harry and Lee. Molly's heart fluttered and she turned to levitate the pot of porridge off the stove and set it down on the table.

Ron could very quickly cuddle his mother now, as long as she didn't grab him back, and every morning he forced himself to without fail. It was the highlight of her day, if she was honest with herself. She felt the tension easing every passing morning, too. She hoped it wouldn't be long before she could hold her boy back, and for a little longer than the brief second they had up until now.

She took her seat at the head of the table and watched as Ron smiled warmly to Lee before turning anxiously to Harry and lowering his head to examine his friend's face.

"I hi-hit you, didn't I?" he murmured under his breath.

"No," Harry smiled, tilting his face towards the light, "nothing, see?"

Ron threw Harry a sly look and chuckled softly before stealing a slice of Harry's toast and jam.

"Oi, get your own!" Harry grinned.

Lee visibly relaxed, too, and cleared his throat.

"Well, the thing is, Mrs Weasley," he said, causing Ron to turn with interest to his newly adopted brother, "I'm a selfish bast...er bugger," Ron and Ginny snorted their laughter into their slices of toast, "and I need to get away from her, my mother I mean, just for a bit."

"She still watching you like you're gonna topple over and shatter then?" Ron asked him before taking the rest of his slice of toast into his mouth in one go.

"Well, she hears stuff from Fergus' mum and I think she thinks it'll happen to me, too." Lee shrugged.

Ron looked at his mother pointedly.

"Mmmm, I seem to r-re-recall certain m-mutterings when Charlie poured me a shot of Firewhisky the other night."

"I didn't say anything, Ronnie," Molly lifted her chin defiantly.

"Ik kan je nu wel horen praten..." Ron mumbled into his chest and voice so low you could barely hear him speak at all.

"What was that?" Molly snapped, leaning over the table to hear her youngest son better.

Ron lifted his head and grinned at her.

"I didn't say anything, Mum, just like you didn't the other night!"

Ginny burst out laughing and Molly sat back in her chair with a huff of annoyance. Harry was chuckling as well. As much as Ron could be annoying when he was acting as if everything was fine and dandy, she did love to feel the tension at the table relax as it had.

"I notice you don't stutter when you are making a fool of your poor mother, Ronald!" Molly grumbled, trying not to break into a smile.

"Oh no, did I miss it?" Charlie tutted as he stepped into the kitchen, towelling his wet hair dry and leaning over Molly to kiss her on the cheek.

"Don't fret, Charlie, dear, I'm sure he'll do it again in a few minutes!"


	2. Helpless

**Helpless**

The owls arrived just as Ron was dumping his breakfast things into the sink and rinsing off his sticky hands. Before the red envelope even touched the table, Harry ripped it away from the owl's leg and sprinted for the back garden with the smoking Howler in hand. He got a certain distance away and then Disapparated with it so Ron wouldn't be able to hear the vile taunts and abuse as they exploded from the Howler.

Charlie clenched his jaw angrily.

Some people were scum. Ron had laughed the first couple of Howlers off and said something about Hermione's hate mail after the Rita Skeeter article when they were at school but he couldn't stand the thought that there were people out there cruel enough to call Ron a 'Death Eater lapdog' and 'an abomination to wizard-kind.' They weren't all like that, though. There was nothing quite like receiving a Howler over breakfast, bacon partially chewed in your mouth, which bursts into judgemental damnation on Ron for choosing to eat human flesh rather than die like a man.

How could people abuse or resent Ron for surviving? Charlie wished he could put up a defensive wall around his brother that blocked out abuse. He scowled into his mug of tea as he thought about how he could resolve the Howler issue. He'd need a filter to get rid of all the post Ron didn't need to see.

"Any for me?" Ron said with a small smile as Ginny and her mother shuffled through the pile of letters and threw one in every five to the addressee.

"_Prophet_ wants an exclusive," Ginny muttered to herself as she dropped another letter onto the growing pile in the middle of the table. "Freelance reporter wants to write a book…invitation to dinner at the Ministry for a public relations stunt…restraining order from somebody you've never met who thinks you want to eat her baby..."

"Ginny!" her mother snapped. "There's no need to read them out!"

"I'm reading them out to point out how ridiculous they are, Mother!" Ginny said as she scattered a handful more unopened letters addressed to 'The Cannibal' onto the pile.

"Any m-more from people who want naked pi-pic-pictures?" Ron joked unconvincingly.

Everybody pretended they hadn't heard him. There was a persistent freak who kept writing letters about touching Ron and how they knew he'd like it. Some warped, kinky witches and wizards were making lewd propositions ever since the rumour got out that Ron had been the Death Eaters' sex slave and most of them got off on asking him for details on what was done and all of them thought Ron needed to know exactly what they wanted to do to him themselves.

The family did almost as much to protect Molly from those letters as they did Ron. She had opened one a few weeks ago that had been horrifically graphic and even had magically animated sketches. She had cried until her husband had forced her to down a sleeping draught. Charlie had been arrested twice for beating up people who made sure he overheard them expressing their opinion that Ron had got off on it and liked all sorts of deviant rough stuff.

The family was in limbo. They didn't know what was appropriate. Should they laugh when Ron and Lee joked about the horrors? Should they try to get them to talk? Should they talk about what they went through while they were waiting for news in the Embassy all that time?

Most of all, Charlie was torn up over if and when he should sit down and talk to Ron about the circumstances of the Puppet Master's death at his hands. Ron hadn't spoken about how he'd killed the Death Eater in the woods, only that he'd had to keep on beating the man long after he'd died to make sure the face was disfigured enough to be totally unrecognisable. Charlie drew in a heavily loaded breath and let it out as he watched his little brother wipe his hands on a dish towel and turn around to lean against the kitchen counter and watch his mother fuss around over his unwanted mail. They caught each other's eye from a moment and shared a small smile.

"Azkaban?" Ginny frowned.

Charlie and Lee both leapt up from their chairs and grabbed at the letter, but Ginny twisted away from then and tore the envelope open with a curious frown.

"Ginny, I know what that is…give it here and we'll burn it with the rest of 'em," Lee said anxiously.

"I'm getting letters from Azkaba-ban?" Ron stammered as he leaned forward to read over Ginny's shoulder.

"No!" Charlie yelled and ripped the letter from his little sister's hands and set about shredding it into pieces.

"Charlie, what do they wa-wan-want?" Ron fixed his brother with a strong stare to compensate for his unsteady speech.

"It's stuff they shouldn't be bothering you with and it's stuff I'm dealing with so you don't have to," Charlie said firmly.

Ron turned his gaze on Lee as if he expected a less defensive response from his trusted, former cell mate.

"Are you getting letters from the p-prison?" Ron asked.

Lee shook his head.

"Do you know what that letter was about?" Ron said as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah," Lee nodded.

"W-Well?" Ron raised his voice just as Harry returned from getting rid of the Howler, finger waggling in his ear as he came through the door.

"One of the Death Eaters is sending you visiting papers," Lee said as he rubbed his hand up and down Ron's arm and winced apologetically.

Ron looked utterly shocked at this news and seemed to be trying to understand the motivation for such a thing.

"Why?"

"Um," Harry said as he caught on to what was going on and approached Ron and tried to rest his hand upon his shoulder, Ron ducked away and pulled back from the both of them.

"Why does a Death Eater want me to come and see him in p-p-prison?" Ron demanded.

"We don't know, but we're bloody damned if we're going to let him pester you for the sake of some sick game," Charlie said confidently. "Dad's looking into some way to stop him harassing you at the Ministry."

"D-Dad knows?" Ron exclaimed. "You all know and you," Ron glared at Lee, "even you, ke-kept this from me."

"Ron, it's just another piece of junk mail like all the others, like I get and Fergus gets and Tommy gets every day."

"This is di-di-diff...FUCK!" Ron kicked at an empty chair and barged out of the kitchen and through to the living room.

Charlie tried to tell the others to wait in the kitchen while he went after him but Lee was already on his knees before Ron as he sat in a tatty armchair muttering to himself in Dutch.

"Ron?" Lee dipped his head to try and force Ron to meet his eyes.

"_Waarom laat je__ me niet alleen?__"_

"English, Ron, come on," Lee was rubbing his hands up and down against Ron's knees soothingly. "You can talk in English without messing it up if you just relax for me, okay?"

"_Misschien ben ik wel een van hen_," Ron said as he stared into the empty fireplace.

"Ron!" Lee shouted as he clicked his fingers in front of Ron's face. "Stop it, now!"

Ron blinked and looked into Lee's wide brown eyes. He opened his mouth and paused before shaking his head despondently and closing it again. Charlie watched as Harry peered round from behind him, as Lee sat on the arm of the chair and rubbed Ron's back until the redhead sighed and ran a hand over his hair and nodded.

"M'fine."

"Say McGonagall's magical marshmallow muff," Lee ordered, a wicked glint in his eye.

Ron stared up at Lee and then snorted with laughter and gave him a playful shove off the arm of the chair. Lee landed on his backside heavily and gave an amused exclamation before Ron got out of the chair and offered Lee a hand up. Lee grabbed hold and was heaved back to his feet with a grunt.

"McGonagall's magical marshmallow muff made merry for many a man!" Ron said proudly.

"Bloody hell!" Charlie gasped.

"Speech," Ron said before crunching up his face, pausing, and then beginning again, "Speech therapy."

"That's what you do in speech therapy?" Ginny giggled.

"S'either that or...or singing!" Ron said with a little wince at his enforced repetition.

Charlie liked repetition though, that meant the stuttering was under control and calming down again.

* * *

He could feel her eyes on him as he gulped down his glass of pumpkin juice in one. 

"I waited fer yeh to come home, Fergus."

"I didn't ask yeh to," he mumbled as he set the empty glass down on the table and began scooping up a mound of beans with his partially burnt toast.

"I gave up at four," his mother said as she sipped at her tea. "I decided that you're a grown man and you don't need yer ma waiting up for yeah and went ta bed in the end."

"Ma, are we havin' this conversation fer a reason?" Fergus said, looking at her with heavy eyelids and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"I'm just explainin' to yeh why I'm not goin' teh bother with yeh any more. Y'don't want fuss, y'don't want nagging, and I'm sick of hearing myself wastin' my breath so I'm just letting yeh know why it's goin' ta stop from now on." She sniffed tetchily and drummed her fingers against the side of her teacup while peering at him over the rim.

"Well, thanks fer the information, Ma. I'll be sure to post an announcement in the papers so everybody knows I now have me bollix back."

The bang shook his brain loose and he groaned and winced and his mother slammed her palms down onto the table and rose up from her chair.

"Julie's boy is takin' more care of her than she is of him!" she snapped down at her cringing son. "Floella's Lee is up early every day to go to take care of poor Ron. Molly tells me that boy steels himself every morning to give her a cuddle when we all know what bein' touched reminds him of."

"So what is it, Ma?" Fergus said angrily. "Yeh want a bleedin' cuddle, is that it? Do yeh want me to set yer feet on a pouf and do the dustin'? Shall I go and crowd 'poor Ron' more than the bloody fella is already? He suffocatin' in that bleedin' cotton wool they've got him wrapped in and Lee's never with his bloody mother and now I'm understandin' why!"

Marie Finnigan silently seethed and snatched up a pile of open letters and threw them across the table at Fergus.

"Throw them in the fire with the rest of 'em," he said darkly as he turned his attention back to his food.

"Oh, I can't throw those ones away, Fergus," his mother said, voice getting louder and louder as she towered over him in his seat. "These are claims for reimbursement for damages. These are unpaid debts at every pub in Hogsmeade that'll still have you. These are fines from the Ministry for drunk and disorderly behaviour!"

"That's getting overturned and you know it!" Fergus said as he jumped up out of his seat and leaned across the table, both palms flat on either side of his plate. "What am I supposed to do when some ignorant bastard makes jibes about me an' the lads? What am I supposed to do when they say Colin died because he was an idiot and Dean Thomas died trying to run away? What am I supposed to do when they say I let one of me mates get molested so I could eat and drink?"

His mother fixed her eyes with his fiercely and spoke in a low hiss.

"You are supposed to walk away and leave them with their ignorance, Fergus."

"Walk away?" Fergus gaped in shock and disgust at the very suggestion. "Walk away!"

He had been about to walk away when the big rum-smelling slob had banged his chest against him and sneered into his face.

'_While you were escaping what were they doing, eh?'_

'_Fuck off!'_

'_I know you know what they were doing, just like we all know what they were doing. I heard about that trial, Paddy, tried to keep it all quiet so nobody would find out what you lot did but I know!'_

'_They kept the trial small outta respect fer the dead and you should think about that before yeh open yer trap now get out my feckin' way!'_

'_Respect for the dead?' he laughed and wobbled at the same time, 'The ones they killed or the ones you lot killed?'_

'_Shut yer mouth.'_

'_I heard it was Viktor Krum who killed that prat Creevey.'_

'_I'm warnin' you.'_

'_Krum murdered Creevey and Weasley murdered Krum.'_

'_Viktor Krum and Ron Weasley put gobshites like you to shame now get outta my way before people add me to the list of people from those cells who've killed.'_

'_At least Krum's dead now, I dunno why Weasley doesn't _Avada Kedavra_ himself personally...a Death Eater getting beaten to death for survival's sake is one thing but sending the Killing Curse at the greatest Quidditch player in Europe by accident-"_

Fergus had hit him to shut him up. He had hit him and hit him and hit him until a barman stunned him and he woke up in a holding cell with a very tired looking Kingsley Shacklebolt shaking his head and muttering about hot-headed Irish temper.

"You do yeh friends no service by caving in the heads of people who call 'em names," Fergus' mother said sternly.

"Names like murderer?" Fergus asked her darkly.

"It does no one any good if you react like a madman to being called a madman, my boy."

"I won't have people sayin' stuff about Tommy fakin' being ill to get away without torture," Fergus growled. "I won't have people sayin' Lee used his best mates little brother as a shield to hide behind and I won't stand fer people callin' Ron a murderer or a loony or...or...he never gave that bastard what he wanted, Ma. He never prostituted himself for a stay of feckin' execution and I can't turn the other cheek when some gobshite with a friend of a friend of the auntie of the tea lady at the canteen who passed by the Wizengamot for half a second during the trial and overheard two words decides to front up to me and call my friend a whore!"

* * *

The whole time Ron was talking to Lee, he kept feeling eyes on him and looking over his shoulder to see Harry quickly looking away. 

It wasn't the same kind of feeling he got when he knew the Puppet Bastard was looking at him but it would still unsettle him slightly to know he was being watched. He knew that Harry was simply being protective, reminding himself how much he watched Harry after what happened to him when he was dragged away from the maze with Cedric and after he lost Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, but he really wished Harry didn't keep doing it.

"Are you listening to me?" Lee frowned as he gave Ron a nudge in the shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" Ron blinked.

Lee gave him a resigned smile; he was used to Ron's mind wandering at the drop of a hat these days.

"I said, do you want to come to Tommy's place with me to talk to him about Fergus? I think we're the only ones who are going to be able to defuse his time bomb."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, still somewhat distracted, "when?"

"Ron, are you sure you're all right?" Lee asked him as he examined Ron's face for any tell-tale signs.

"Fine," Ron smiled and nodded. "I'm fine, I just think..." Ron swallowed and looked back over his shoulder, catching Harry looking away again and then turned back to Lee and raising his eyebrows, "I'll come along in a little while, okay?"

Lee understood and looked over Ron's shoulder at Harry, smiling broadly.

"I'm off, Harry, I'll see ya later." He waved.

"Oh, right," Harry called back, slightly startled at being involved in what he must have believed to be a secret conversation. "Yeah, bye, Lee."

"You wanna come with us?" Ron asked, eyebrows raised.

Harry shook his head.

Ron waved Lee off and turned to look at Harry thoughtfully. Harry shifted uncomfortably under Ron's gaze.

"What?" he asked, eyes shifty.

"Are you looking at me?" Ron asked his best friend bluntly.

"Well, yeah, I like to look at people when I'm talking to them." Harry shrugged.

"No, I mean are you _looking_ at me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry blinked back at him, "I'm not _not_ looking at you if that's what you mean."

"Well, you're looking at me now because I'm the only one here but before..."

"Ron, have you been watching _Taxi Driver_?" Harry interrupted.

"I'm not watching anyone," Ron exclaimed in confusion, "Y-You're the one who's watching me!"

"I'm not watching you!" Harry protested.

"Every time I turned around, you were looking away!"

"How do you know I was looking away and not just looking in the opposite direction?"

"Because I saw you look-looking!" Ron huffed, throwing his arms into the air and laughing.

Harry smiled with embarrassment and slumped against the door of the larder.

"Sorry."

"I didn't say I was annoyed about it, I just," Ron shrugged and leaned sideways against the doorframe on the opposite side of the kitchen to Harry, "you don't have to worry about me. I'm okay."

"I know you are," Harry said sincerely.

"_You're_ not okay though, are you?" Ron winced and tilted his head at an angle. "Did I do something, other than punch you, to upset you today?"

Harry drew in an unsteady breath and shook his head firmly.

"You've not done anything to upset me, don't you ever worry about that. I just...I just miss you, well not you, us, you and me being close like we were. I miss how it used to be, like you and Lee are now, and I just...I just miss it but I understand why you need him."

"I need you, too," Ron said, amazed that Harry felt he was useless to Ron now that Lee was in the picture.

"Look, it's fine," Harry smiled and shrugged. "Lee and the others will be waiting for you. You'd better go."

"Harry," Ron began.

"I have things to do today so we can talk when you get back if you want, okay?"

"Oh," Ron blinked. "Okay. I'll tell Tom and Fergus you said 'hi.'"

"Yeah, do that. Have a good afternoon, mate." Harry grinned and waved at Ron before practically running out the back door.

* * *

_A/N Now before you get excited I WON'T be updating on a daily basis! I have a set plan to post a new chapter every Mon, Weds and Fri until we reach the end (which will be before Deathly Hallows comes out). The reason I posted yesterday was that chapter one wasn't ready on Monday!_

_Back on track now so I'll see you all on Friday._


	3. How Do You Solve a Problem Like Fergus?

**How Do You Solve a Problem Like Fergus?**

Ron sat with Tommy on the wooden bench in Embankment gardens, watching as Lee and Fergus sprawled out in the blazing sun-–the latter burning quite badly, and enjoyed the shade.

Ron didn't think he needed anymore freckles and he knew for a fact he'd burn worse than Fergus if he tried to sunbathe so he sat watching Tommy lazily kicking out at pigeons strutting too closely in the hope of being thrown some food.

When the pigeons weren't scrounging or strutting like Lockhart with a broomstick shoved up his arse, they were trying to mount each other.

When Ron snorted with laughter the first time he saw a particular pigeon puffing out his chest and putting on a show before a disinterested female, Lee sat up to see what was so amusing. The male pounced, wobbled unsteadily on the female's back for a second before she threw him off and flew away, seeming quite annoyed.

"No means no!" Ron had chuckled at the flustered-looking bird.

Lee gave him, Ron, not the pigeon, one of his 'not funny' looks and Ron's smile faded and he stared off in the other direction until Lee had settled back down again.

Lee was all for making the most of the sun. Fergus just wanted to sleep off his hangover and Tommy just seemed to enjoy the company. Ron was there because he had no idea where else he was supposed to be. Harry had made it pretty clear he wasn't comfortable being alone with him, at least not alone and talking seriously about things, so sitting with three people who weren't going to run away from him rather than talk was a decent option.

His present status was 'getting better', 'recovering', 'getting back on his feet' and all sorts of other things that meant unemployed and directionless.

A little way away from Lee and Fergus was the sign they were both ignoring. It was a small round sign on the end of a short stick with neat white, carefully hand painted, letters on it.

'_Please keep to the path'_

The sign made Ron think about his own path and where it led. What if it took him somewhere he didn't want to go? Who was setting out the route anyway? Had he surrendered his whole future to just have the quiet life from now on?

Of course, the sign may just have been politely directing people not to walk on the sodding grass.

Merlin, he hated how introspective this whole mess had made him. Even keep off the grass signs were speaking to him personally. Just as he smiled ruefully to himself, Tommy turned to share a similar meaningful smile before Lee muttered something and Fergus huffed and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Well, take yer bleedin' shirt off then, ya great prat!"

Lee scowled at Fergus and then looked down at the grass mumbling just loud enough for Ron to make out.

"I can't take it off, can I?"

"Why not?" Ron called across the pathway to him.

Lee's dark brown eyes rolled in Ron's direction and fixed upon him fiercely.

"Don't you start as well."

"Seriously," Ron said, knowing what the problem was but doing a damn good job of pretending he didn't, "if you're hot then take it off. That's what makes us different from women, y'know? We don't have to hide anything from the waist up."

"Unless you have a third nipple, of course," Tommy mused aloud.

"Hey Jordan," Fergus chuckled, "ye got any extra nipples there ya shouldn't have?"

"No, but I do have less skin than I'm meant to thank you very much and I'd rather not draw attention to it if that's alright with all of you?" Lee snapped.

The four of them froze and shared an uncomfortably long silence before a helicopter flew overhead. Tommy had explained that it was a traffic chopper for the local radio station, a statement that meant absolutely nothing to Ron, but he had smiled and nodded all the same. Lee huffed and lay back down while Fergus gazed edgily over to Tommy and Ron on the bench.

"They're nothing to be ashamed of, Lee." Tommy said, his voice practically making Ron jump clean off the bench after all that weighty silence.

"Scars don't tan anyway, so what's the point?" Lee spoke into the grass beneath him.

"So correct me if I'm wrong here," Fergus said as he sat all the way up now to stare at Lee as if he was completely do-lally, "are you tellin' us you're laying out here to get some colour?"

Tommy snorted, Fergus' mouth turned upwards into a smile and Ron bit his lip to hold in his own exclamation as Lee lifted his head and struggled not to laugh. Ron pulled at his own t-shirt and grinned cockily.

"I'd take mine off but I wouldn't wanna blind people."

That did it. Lee was laughing and Fergus joined in with his throaty cackle.

"Oh, please take off your shirt, Lee," Tommy joked in a pleading manner. "If I sit next to him while he's topless, he'll drain all the colour out of me as well!"

Lee rolled his eyes and awkwardly pulled off his shirt. Ron saw the light pink scarring all over Lee's back briefly before the dreadlocked sunbather rolled over and laid on his back, lean brown chest facing skyward.

Ron swallowed as he thought about why Lee had lost all the skin from his back at the hands of the Puppet Master and his belt buckle.

"Hey, Lee..." Ron began.

Lee's head lifted and angled to look at Ron and he was smiling.

"It was worth it."

* * *

"What do we do with all the memories, Mad-Eye?" Tonks asked as she picked a small phial out of the large wooden rack in the middle of the table and watched the silvery liquid shimmer in the light.

"Well, the memories are the property of the boys so..." Moody shrugged uncomfortably, stomping on his false leg past the table and over to the open door of the evidence room to make sure nobody was lurking around.

The press had requested to see some of the memories submitted by the Venlo survivors in place of testimony at the trial. When they were refused, they set about trying to get hold of the phials using more devious methods. After one particular hired thief was apprehended with all of Ron's memories in his possession, the Wizengamot ruled that the memories either be returned to the witnesses or destroyed.

"What are we supposed to do, Mad-Eye?" Tonks huffed and ran her hand through her bright yellow hair, turning it mauve in the process. "Are we going to go to Ron and say, hey there how are you doing, would you like that pure, undiluted memory of being sexually assaulted poured back into your head?"

"But that memory is his to decide what to do with," Moody said gruffly. "We have no right to destroy it without his permission."

Tonks worried her lip between her teeth until it flapped like a diving board above her chin and she sucked it back into shape with a huff.

"I just don't want to have to bring any of them this decision right now. You do know Finnigan got arrested again the other night, don't you?"

"Know?" Moody's real eye bulged. "I'm the one who bailed him out, not easy that, me in a Muggle police station!"

"And that bastard is still harassing Ron to come and visit him in Azkaban. Remus told me the other day."

"Yes, well, we know what that's about, selfish swine, but like I said Tonks, this problem isn't going to go away. Best deal with it now while feelings are still raw than wait for them to recover and then open up old wounds again."

Tonks sighed and nodded sadly. She slotted the phial back into position. It was labelled '_Thomas Painter – memory of hanging torture of Ronald Weasley and execution of Daniel Prang._'

"Is this ever going to be over for them, Mad-Eye?"

Moody looked at her with both eyes and then turned to leave without a word.

* * *

Tommy had insisted that Fergus talk to them somewhere other than a pub, a suggestion that took some persuading, and the Irishman had become instantly defensive with the three of them until he let fly with an outburst in the middle of Wheezes.

"Look, I'm not an alchie okay? I'm not drinking because my poor, enfeebled mind can't stop me but because I feckin' want to, alright? I. Feel. Like. It!"

Lee shushed Fergus and pulled him around the back and over to the stairs that led to the twins' flat above the shop. He'd sent a Patronus ahead to make sure they didn't mind them showing up to hash this out; nobody wanted a confrontation at their family home but they didn't much want to get it done in public either, and Fred and George had been instantly accommodating.

"Get up those stairs and don't you bloody well upset my brother, got it?" George said as he helped Lee shove the grumbling Fergus up the stairs.

Fred tugged on Ron's sleeve and then threw something small and orange at him before winking.

"It's got a Cheering Charm on it, little bro," Fred explained just loud enough for Tommy to overhear. "Thought it might do something to calm the stutter when it gets away from you...might not but worth a try, eh?"

"I've got speech therapy for tha-" Ron began to say as he rolled the small, furry ball around in his large palm doubtfully.

"And it's working brilliantly, Ronniekins, but not very fast, eh?" Fred smiled before turning back to look at Verity getting overwhelmed in the busy shop by herself. "Look, I've got to get back to work but if you feel things are getting away from you, just give it a squeeze and it'll send a Cheering Charm through you and lighten the load a bit, okay?"

Ron nodded and turned to follow on up the stairs.

"Nice to see you out of the house, Ron!" Fred called but Ron didn't seem to have heard him.

Tommy turned to Fred and grinned at him.

"Great idea, that…good to see you again, Geo...Fred?"

Fred laughed and gave Tommy a slap on the shoulder and jogged away to take charge of the till before Verity burst into tears.

Tommy took the stairs two at a time and caught up with Ron just as George was passing him at the top of the stairs and looking him in the eyes intently.

"You alright?" he asked in a low mumble.

"I would be if people stopped asking me that," Ron replied sarcastically.

George smirked and shouldered Ron into the wall as he passed by. Ron sniggered a little bit and then he and Tommy stepped through to the living room where Lee was standing before a tetchy Fergus, who had his arms folded across his chest.

"I can't believe yer doing this, treatin' me like an auld wino or somethin'," Fergus huffed before dropping himself down into a squashy armchair that immediately made a farting sound.

Lee snorted and rolled his eyes as the chair began to speak in Fred's voice '_Get your fat arse off me! This is Fred's chair!_' and Ron gestured to the sofa with a smile of resignation.

"The sofa doesn't heckle if you wanna sit, Fergus."

"No, I don't wanna sit!" Fergus snapped as he got up again and glared at them all. "I wanna spend some time wi' me mates and have a laugh and not have teh deal with all the crap our families are rubbin' in our faces."

"Well, we can't have a bloody laugh with you when your drunk, Fergus! You're no bloody fun!" Lee said as he waved his arms animatedly.

"Oh, I _am_ sorry, Jordan!" Fergus said melodramatically before flailing his arms around while he did a ridiculous looking jig around the living room. "Here I am, here's fun Fergus for yeh--tell the clown what to do, boys!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Lee huffed and dug his fingers into his dreads and massaged his scalp in frustration.

"Fergus, we don't want you to entertain us, we just want you to stop hiding from us in bars and brushing us off every day because you've got a hangover," Tommy explained as he sat on the arm of the sofa and then got tipped off and onto the sofa cushions.

'_Don't you know what bit's for sitting on, you twit?'_ George's voice mocked from the piece of furniture.

"Oh, we're gonna have a great chat in here, aren't we?" Fergus rolled his eyes. "What's next? Is the coffee table gonna stamp on me foot?"

Ron moved across the room and gripped Fergus by the shoulders, walking him backwards back into Fred's chair and forcing him down into it. A soon as Fred's voice piped up again Ron slammed his hands down onto the armrests and two dust clouds billowed up.

"An arse is an arse and Fred's not ge-getting any so stop complaining!" he ordered the armchair.

'_I'll tell him you said that'_ the armchair sang smugly; it was almost like Peeves the poltergeist at Hogwarts.

"I'll tell him you hold in all his secret farts and let them out whe-when he's not here." Ron moved back away from the chair and waited for a sign of compliance.

"_Oh-ka-kay_!" Fred's voice responded with a mock stutter.

Fergus kicked at the chair with his heel.

"Watch it you, that's yer brother yer takin' the piss out of!"

"That's not actually Fred," Lee smiled before kicking the armchair himself and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. "That's just a chair."

"A charm on a chair," Ron nodded, "don't worry abo-bout it."

Tommy saw that Ron had just rolled the small furry orange ball between his fingers and given it a slight squeeze. As he looked up at Ron's face, he saw the redhead stifling a giggle behind his other hand.

"It's pretty funny, really," Ron grinned before throwing himself down into the seat beside Tommy and putting his feet up on the table.

'_Feet off the table!_' both Fred and George's voices shouted.

"Oh, sod off!" Ron chortled as he banged his foot down on the surface and turned to look at Fergus. "So are you gonna be a moody git or are you gonna tell us why you're being such a bastard to your mother?"

Fergus started at Ron in amazement. Tommy would have been taken aback by Ron's carefree attitude as well if he hadn't seen the exchange between brothers at the bottom of the stairs a short while ago.

"Um, well yeah." Lee was slightly thrown by Ron getting straight to the point in such a merry fashion. "I mean I'd love to have my mum treating me normally and telling me I was a prat when I was a prat rather than all this 'Oh, honey, let's talk about your feelings' crap every day. What's your problem with her?"

"That's my problem!" Fergus huffed as he sat up in the chair. "That's my problem right there. Me Ma has never once feckin' coddled me like yours all did you. She's all fer treating me like I was before all this happened and I'm not the same now!"

"What's wrong with her treating you as if you were still you and not made of glass?" Lee asked, face clearly bewildered that being treated the same as before could be considered a bad thing in any way.

"Oh, what does it matter how yer ma treats you, Jordan? Yer never bloody around her!" Fergus spat cruelly.

"My mum understands that..." Lee nodded his head discreetly in Ron direction, "I'm _needed!"_

"I don't need you," Ron said cheerfully. "I've got people coming out of my ears at home. Oh! You know what I need? I want great big empty house with nobody in it...and a sweetshop!"

Tommy couldn't help but snort with laughter and edge along the sofa to try and pry the small orange ball out of Ron's hand. Lee frowned at Ron worriedly and Fergus smirked at him for being dismissed by Ron in such a breezy manner.

"See maybe yeh wanna spend some time with your Ma and leave yer man alone, Lee, eh?" Fergus sat back in the chair and folded his arms smugly.

"Look, this isn't about me!" Lee said angrily. "This is about you and your need to drink until you fall down or get into a fight every night."

"I don't fall down drunk I'll have you know," Fergus said, as furious as he might have been if Lee had accused him of screwing a goat. "And I'd like teh see you turn and walk away from people saying Ron was driven to mass murder by all the feckin' semen up his arse!"

Lee threw himself at Fergus and pulled his arm back to punch him in the face but Fergus flipped himself out of the armchair and twisted Lee's arm behind his back, forcing his face into the cushions.

"Yeh see? Yeh see, you do the same thing I do and you haven't had a drink at all, so get off yer high horse and stay off my back while yer at it!"

"Oh why is everything always about bloody me?" Ron waved his arms around wildly. "Who cares what these fuckers think? What do they fuckin' know anyway?"

Tommy tried to grab for the hand with the orange ball of fluff in it but Ron was still gesticulating wildly.

"You'd do it fer us and don't say yeh wouldn't," Fergus said knowingly as he released Lee and took a few steps away from him.

"What?" Ron said with a snort of derision. "I'm supposed to take a swing at somebody if they call you a drunk?"

Fergus's eyes darkened and a tiny muscle in his cheek twitched.

"Well here's news for ya, Fergus...you _are!_" Ron laughed.

Tommy lunged for Ron's arm and the two of them toppled backwards and landed on the sofa. Tommy was sprawled on top of Ron's body and he ripped the orange ball from his hand and climbed off the cackling redhead with a sigh of relief.

"Fred gave him a slow-release cheering charm," Tommy explained as he held up the ball. "Don't take it personally, either of you. He'd find anything funny right now."

Fergus' face lightened and he held out his hand to take the ball from Tommy. Lee rolled his eyes and got up got of the armchair and stomped across the room towards the stairs.

"I'm going to give Fred such a bloody clout!" he grumbled as he went.

Ron was still giggling as he got up and called after him.

"Oh Lee, come on mate…he was trying to help me relax the stutter...and it worked, didn't it?"

"Worked?" Lee spun around and his voice grew louder, "Worked? How is giving you a hysterical charm to control your emotions any different to him self-medicating with alcohol?"

"Self-medicating?" Fergus said as he scrunched up his face. "What the hell are ye talkin' about, Lee?"

"I've been reading up on how people like you deal with the sort of things that happened to us and..."

"People like _us_?" Fergus exclaimed in outrage.

"Cuckoo!" Ron said as he twirled his finger at the side of his head and then doubled up with giggles.

"I think he's talking about all of us, Fergus," Tommy said, trying to calm the nerves of everyone in the room.

"Not you, Tom, you're not the same," Lee said with a dismissive wave before looking back at Fergus angrily. "Before all this happened, if your mum wanted you to stay home for a family night or dinner or just to keep her company on a lonely evening would you have ranted at her and stormed out or would you have given her just one night without complaining?"

"But the difference is she's not after one night in wi'me," Fergus threw the orange ball down onto the coffee table after a small smile began creeping onto his face. "She's after never letting me go back ta the life I had because of what went on."

"But you can't have the life you had, Fergus, none of us can," Lee said as he moved away from the stairs and back towards Fergus once again.

"I won't hide in me Ma's house until people stop bein' arseholes, Lee," Fergus shrugged carelessly, the cheering charm seeming to have levelled out his aggression to some extent.

"I'm not suggesting we hide, I'm just..."

"What do you mean, I'm not the same as you?" Tommy said coolly.

"What?" Lee blinked, completely blindsided by Tommy speaking up at all.

"You said I'm not the same. Why am I not the same?" Tommy felt his throat dry up as he spoke.

"_What?_ No, I meant...oh, not you as well, Tom!" Lee huffed.

"Apparently not me as well, no!" Tommy said indignantly. "Apparently, my experiences in that place don't count. Or maybe because I got out before the massacre and the seriously bad torture, I dunno, maybe I should feel lucky to have been dying the whole time and missing out on all the male bonding!"

"Tom," Ron said, not giggling anymore but seemingly unable to stop smiling as he picked up the orange ball from the table and holding it out to him, "don't get tetchy, give Fred's ball a squeeze and everything'll be better!"

Fergus snorted as Ron began sniggering and Tommy took the ball from him before the charm made him hysterical. He turned and looked at Lee, feeling the light-headed cheerfulness of the charm lightening the dark cloud hovering over his head gradually.

"You know what, Lee?" Tommy said with a sigh, "Maybe we're all dealing with our issues the wrong way but at least we're dealing with them. What are you doing to keep yourself from going mad?"

Lee looked from one of them to the other before marching back to the stairs and carrying on all the way down them without another word.


	4. Intimacy

**Intimacy**

Hermione put her toothbrush into her overnight travel bag and zipped it up. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She knew she wasn't going to have sex with Ron tonight. Her parents knew she wasn't going to have sex with Ron tonight. _Everybody_ who knew Ron knew he wasn't going to be having sex with her tonight.

They were taking baby steps and the first baby step was going to be a sleepover. She was going to sleep in Ron's room, on Harry's bed, while Harry spent the night on the settee downstairs. Such an innocent, little thing felt so intimate, though. She would be able to bid him goodnight, watch him sleep, and be there if he woke in the night. That meant a lot to her.

Ron was feeling like an inadequate boyfriend because he couldn't give her what he thought she wanted from him, a physical relationship, but all she wanted from him was his relaxation in her company.

She would never forget their first, post-capture kiss in the hospital. It broke her heart. He wasn't ready and he was shaking so hard but he had to go through with it to exorcise the Puppet Master from his mouth. To see him and feel him so scared at such a wonderful, intimate moment made Hermione hurt more than she could ever articulate to another person and she had vowed to take their physical relationship so slow that it would make their five year courtship look like a spontaneous whirlwind romance.

"Hermione, love?" Her mother was tapping on the bathroom door tentatively.

"I'm finished now, it's free," she called as she pulled open the door and stepped out with her toiletries bag clutched in her hand.

"I don't need to use the loo. I wanted to make sure you were up to this."

"Oh, come on, Mother, it's Ron. It's no hardship spending time with Ron." She smiled cheerily.

Her mother's lips pressed tightly against each other before she sighed worriedly and took Hermione's hand.

"Hermione, love, he really should be seeing somebody."

Hermione stuck out her chin and lifted her head high.

"Instead of me?"

"As well as you, as well as you and everybody else. He needs to see somebody who can help him get over what that man did to him. I'm worried he's forcing everything to the back of his mind, out of sight for you all but it will still be there, Hermione."

"I know he needs a release and I'm going to try to help him find it but you can't expect Muggle therapy to be of any use to him. It'll upset him mum. I know how he is and..."

Her mother shushed her and pulled her into her arms for a comforting hug.

"I know I can't understand, but the point is neither can you, my girl." She pushed her daughter's mass of bushy hair back away from her face and smiled sadly. "You once told me that when Ron is stressed, he lashes out at people or he begins to turn his frustration in on himself."

"He would never hurt me, Mum," Hermione said with determination. "Never!"

"But Hermione, what if he hurt himself?"

Hermione shoved her mother away as if she had suddenly turned into Dolores Umbridge and stared at her in horror.

"How could you say that? After everything he did to stay alive, how could you even think that?"

"Sweetheart, no, I didn't mean hurt himself like that I just meant..."

"He has people all around him trying to get him to open up or let go and get over it and I will not start pushing him towards something he doesn't want and isn't ready for."

"So what are you going to do tonight?"

"I'm going to be there for him," Hermione said, fighting not to blink and send tears squeezing out of her eyes. "I want him to know he's safe when he's sleeping and I want to be with him when he wakes up."

"But I thought you said only Lee could settle him?"

Hermione was amazed her mother had paid such close attention to everything that was going on.

"Lee needs to take care of himself and his mother and leave Ron to learn to cope without him." Hermione finished speaking and turned to leave but her mother grabbed her arm and held her back.

"Ron won't be coping on his own, though will he?" her mum said with a frown. "He'll be replacing Lee with you and going on the same as he is now."

Hermione bit the inside of her lip and tried to think of something to say that wasn't what she was about to let leave her mouth.

"But at least he'll be with me again."

* * *

Ron stood in the doorway between the living room and the hall and watched Harry draping a blanket over the settee and plumping up a pillow in preparation for bed. Harry glanced up and saw his best friend watching him. He smiled and tossed the pillow against the armrest.

"You alright, mate?"

Ron nodded and frowned down at Harry's bed for the night.

"Y'know, you could get your own place? You can afford it and I know you must want a home of your own after all this time living under other people's roofs."

"You asking me to move out?" Harry said, looking deeply hurt.

"No!" Ron shook his head hurriedly. "It's just...I'm not asking you to stay. You don't have to stay for me."

Harry swallowed and puffed out his chest.

"No, I don't, but I'm going to. When I move out, you'll be moving out, too."

Ron smiled doubtfully and looked away from Harry and down the hall.

"Mum'll never let me leave," he joked half-heartedly.

"So you leave one prison for another?" Harry crinkled his brow and tilted his head.

"This is my home," Ron said, offended that Harry had just compared his safe haven to the place that had become hell on Earth to him.

"And you eventually leave it to make your own home, not your mum and dad's, not mine, _yours_."

Ron shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Not _ours_?" He blinked.

Harry's expression was changing from one of fake confidence to a look of surprised hope.

"You think you might want to...share a place with me?"

"I understand if you don't want to, though," Ron said, pausing to clear his throat and trying not to blush at the tips of his ears. "I mean you've shared with me for years now, it's only natural that you'd...you'd want your own space."

"No!" Harry said, sounding shocked at his own eagerness. "I thought you'd want to, if you did want to that is, I thought you'd want to...get a place with Lee."

Ron stared at Harry and blinked before swallowing and trying to process what their crossed wires had just uncrossed and revealed to the pair of them.

"You...You think I should live with Lee?"

"I thought you'd prefer to live with him, with somebody who understands, y'know?" Harry shrugged and bit his lip and he began fussing with his temporary bedding.

"So you don-don't understand me anymore?" Ron scowled inwardly at himself for slipping into his nervous stutter when he really needed to clear up all the things he and Harry had never said to each other clearly.

Harry forced himself to look back at Ron and his shoulders fell heavily with his sigh.

"I wasn't there for you like he was. I can't ever come close to the kind of bond you have with Lee. I just figured you'd...I mean he's always coming over here to be around you. I know he'd want to live with you."

"He worries, that's all it is, it's just worry. He doesn't know how to turn it off after fretting over me for so long. I'm not, he's not...He's Fred and George's best friend and you're mine. We haven't ch-changed like that." Ron moved into the living room as he spoke and Harry waved for him to sit down with him on top of his settee-cum-bed.

Ron sank down onto the squishy cushions and tried to read Harry's expression anxiously.

"I want you and me to get a place together when you're ready," Harry said unsteadily, "but I don't think, I _didn't_ think, you would want to anymore."

Ron pressed his lips together and crumpled his eyebrows together in deep thought before shifting around in his seat towards Harry.

"I won't always try to hit you, y'know?"

Harry laughed and gave Ron a shove without thinking. Immediately, his face fell and he apologised repeatedly while struggling to keep himself from touching Ron even more. Ron chuckled sadly and shook his head before shoving Harry back.

"If you never touch me again, I'm never gonna get over this crap, am I?" He smiled and shrugged.

"I know but," Harry looked pained as he spoke, "I don't want to _make_ you get over it."

Ron shifted a little closer to his best friend and nudged him with his elbow.

"I don't wanna be the person nobody ever touches. I don't wanna be a mess." Ron held up his finger as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "I don't want you to have to look after me but I don't want you to back away from me, either."

Harry looked crestfallen.

"I..." Ron slumped and shook his head, "I don't know what I want from you but I just know I don't want you to g-go away."

Harry lifted his hand and held it above Ron's shoulder for a moment before very slowly lowering it and giving his friend a reassuring pat.

"I'm not going anywhere, not ever, not unless you're there waiting for me."

Ron's smile returned, wider than before, and just as he was about to say something there was a loud crack outside the front door and he jumped off the sofa completely.

"That'll be Hermione!" Ron said, "I b-b-bet...er let her in."

"It'll be okay, Ron," Harry said confidently. "She's not going anywhere, either. Don't wind yourself up about tonight. She just wants to be with you."

Ron nodded rapidly and hurried for the door.

* * *

Hermione walked back into the bedroom and set down her toiletries bag, smiling at Ron as he lit the bedside lamp and set it beside her bed for the night.

"I thought you m-might wanna read." He smiled nervously.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Ron, thank you."

Ron turned and drew the curtains shut and then looked down at his neatly made bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his bottom lip. Hermione did her best not to stare at him as she crossed the room to her bed and pulled back the covers. She heard Ron doing the same, pulling the sheets loose and rumpling the bedding completely in that way of his, and turned to glance at him at the same moment he had done the same to her.

They both laughed self-consciously and relaxed a little more. Hermione began to unbutton her blouse and Ron turned away to preserve her modesty.

"You've seen me undressed before, Ron," Hermione called to him softly.

"Um, yeah but..." Ron shrugged and the back of his neck grew pink with the blush creeping around from his face.

"Can I..." Hermione didn't know if she would be pushing him or not. "Do you mind if I watch you?"

Ron looked over his shoulder and started at her in surprise before shaking his head. Hermione smiled kindly and turned to face him full on as she pulled her blouse off her shoulders and let it slide off.

"Turn and face me," she said to Ron, who was gripped by the sight of her but also incredibly tense-looking.

He drew a deep but shaky breath and turned around. He yanked off his t-shirt and threw it to the floor. Hermione folded her blouse and placed it at the foot of the bed. Ron licked his lips and his trembling fingers began fumbling with his belt. Hermione moved her hands to the zipper on the side of her skirt and slid it downwards.

Ron gulped and toed off his untied trainers as he slid the belt out of the loops and suddenly shuddered.

"We can stop," Hermione said urgently.

Ron's eyes shone brightly but she could see he was fighting whatever it was trying to shake him and soon he threw the belt across the room and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks. He focused on his feet as he spoke to her with a constricted voice.

"Just...the be-belt, he used a belt on L-Lee and the sound it just made wa-wa-was..."

"Look at me, Ron," Hermione said again, not moving from her spot across the room from him. "Don't let your mind wander back there, stay here with me. Look at me standing here in your bedroom with you. Look at me like this."

Hermione waited until Ron's eyes lifted to peer through his copper hair at her before she let her skirt fall to her ankles and stepped out of it. She stood before him in her underwear. Ron drew in a bracing breath and stood up again. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. He shook his legs out of them and kicked them aside, biting his lip as he looked at her looking at him.

"_Je ziet er prachtig uit_," Ron said breathlessly.

"What was that?" Hermione leaned in a little and cocked her head to one side.

Ron shook his head as if trying to shake the intruding language out of his mind and reset it to English.

"I said you look b-bea-beau-"

"Say it again in Dutch!" Hermione said, tears welling and pride bubbling over inside her.

"_Je ziet er prachtig uit_!" Ron said with a laugh of apology at only being able to complement her in a language she didn't understand.

"Thank you."

Ron ducked his head bashfully and one corner of his mouth curled upwards as he watched her lift her hands behind her back and unclasp her bra. He drew in a sharp breath and held it as Hermione rolled her shoulders and let the straps slide down her arms. She dropped her simple cotton bra onto the bed behind her and lowered her hands to slip both thumbs into the elastic of her knickers. Ron whispered something she couldn't quite make out and moved his hands to ease down his crumpled boxers.

The both bent over and removed their underwear, eyes fixed on each other, and when they stood up straight once more they were both completely naked.

"I..." Ron said before holding his tongue and looking determined for a second before continuing, "l-ove you."

"I love you, too," Hermione said softly with a contented smile.

She kissed the air before her and Ron laughed a little before lifting his right leg forward and nudging the side of her calf with his big toe. It was almost as good as a great big cuddle at that moment and she turned to pick up her nightshirt and pull it over her head while Ron climbed into a pair of too loose and threadbare pyjama bottoms and then into his bed.

Hermione tied back her hair in a ponytail and settled into her own bed.

"G'night, Hermione." Ron called across to her as he set his head upon his pillow.

"Not yet," Hermione said with a smile, "give me your pillow."

Ron lifted his head again and frowned before grabbing his pillow and throwing it across the space to her. She caught it and put it to her face, inhaling deeply and humming with satisfaction, and then set it down on the bed to rest her head upon it.

"Can I have yours?" Ron asked with a grin.

Hermione tossed it to him and he caught it without taking his eyes off her.

"So it's like we have each other if we need each other," Hermione whispered and hugged the pillow to her.

"Yeah," Ron agreed as he nestled his head into her pillow before sniggering. "Only you do realise this pillow smells of Harry!"

Hermione huffed and giggled and then hurled her dressing gown at him, covering his cackling face.

"And you tell people you're different now," Hermione sighed while smiling widely.

They looked at each other while their giggles died down and eventually Hermione leaned over to extinguish the lamp.

"Goodnight, Ron."

"Night."

* * *

_The belt buckle tore into his back and he screamed in agony and thrashed against the wall. _

'_No more! Stop, please, no more. I can't stand it,' Lee begged._

'_You made your choice, Mr Jordan,' the sickeningly detached voice of the Puppet Master purred lazily into the side of his blood spattered face. 'You chose to take your punishment to prevent me from taking what I want from my Firebrand.'_

_Lee forced his eyes tightly shut and choked on a sob._

'_What was that, Mr Jordan?' The Puppet Master leaned in even closer, a sickening smile spreading across his face as Lee cracked one eye open to look back at Ron, stripped to the waist and chained to the table._

'_Please, stop,' Lee whimpered, 'no more lashes, I'll do anything just stop the lashes, please."_

_The Puppet Master leaned back out of view again and left Lee with the sight of Ron, bent over the table face down and legs forced apart, a leather gag in his mouth and he heard himself saying the words he didn't want to say._

'_You can have him,' Lee said as he hung limply from his shackles and began to cry. 'Do whatever you want with him just leave me alone.'_

_He felt his stomach churn at the look him Ron's eyes across the torture room and looked away. Ron's chains began to clank and the table groaned. The Puppet Master was murmuring things to Ron in Dutch and suddenly Ron screamed from behind his gag and Lee screamed with him._

His whole body shook and his arm flew out and sent the lamp on the bedside table crashing to the floor. Legs flailing and sheets billowing in the darkness Lee sat up and drew his arm back, ready to throw a punch, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Get off him!"

The darkness was broken by a rectangle of light and he squinted as the room became recognisable again and the source of the light grew larger until it was moved to one side and his mother's concerned face was before him.

"Lee, honey, it's okay, you were just dreaming." His mother's voice brought him back home, back into his bed again, and he tried to steady his breathing while throwing himself forward into her arms and hiding his tear-streaked face in the side of her neck.

"I let him...I let him take him..." Lee panted and wept. "It was too much Mum. He was fucking flaying my back and I just wanted it to stop so I...I..."

"Lee, stop, it was a nightmare," his mum said firmly as she ran her hand up and down his back.

Lee squirmed under her touch and she soon stopped and put her gentle hand on the back of his head protectively.

"He was all over him, Mum, I told him to do it," Lee said tremulously. "I gave Ron up!"

"Lee no, you didn't, did you? I saw it in the Pensieve and if you think about it you'll remember that you didn't, did you?" His mother spoke softly and began to rock side to side with him slowly.

Lee grabbed two handfuls of her dressing gown as tightly as he could and sniffed his running nose.

"I just wanted him to leave me alone."

"He's gone now, hasn't he? He'll never hurt you like that again, honey. Shush now, come on."

"I have to see," Lee said suddenly, pulling away from his mother and wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I have to see that he's all right."

"What? You mean Ron?" Lee's mother blinked in shock. "But it's the middle of the night! You can't go to the Weasleys' house at this time."

"I _have_ to!" Lee said, voice straining to remain strong as he struggled out of bed. "I have to be there with him."

"Lee, no," his mother said firmly as she tried to follow him but stepped upon a fragment of the broken lamp and hissed, falling backwards onto the bed and pulling the sharp piece of glass from the sole of her foot.

Lee winced as he saw the blood dripping from her foot and made a hesitant move towards her before jerking backwards and turning to rush for the door again.

"I'm sorry! I have to go to him before anyone touches him. I can't let them touch him!"

"Lee!" his mum called after him, sounding fearful for his sanity.

But Lee was already jumping into the Floo.

* * *

Hermione woke with a start and took some time to remember where she was. She slumped into the pillow and snuggled down into the bed sheets to go back to sleep when she heard something, probably the very thing that had made her wake up in the first place. She heard a laboured squeak.

Well, it sounded like a squeak at first. Then as she sat up in bed, she thought it was more like a stifled giggle. She peered through the darkness to Ron's bed and listened.

"Ron?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"

Again she heard the squeaky, breathless laugh and swivelled around on the bed to face him.

"What's so funny?" she called out as low as she could so she didn't wake anybody else.

Then she heard a sniff and more of the shaky noises and realised Ron wasn't laughing in his sleep at all--he was crying. Hermione bit her lip and wondered what to do. Did he need comforting or leaving alone? Should she wake him or not? Maybe, if she just lit a candle so he wasn't in the dark. Maybe, if she began reading aloud it would sink in to his subconscious where he was and who he was with.

Ron choked on another wave of stifled distress and all Hermione wanted to do was to go to him and hold him to her.

She knew she shouldn't do that, though. She knew her instincts were wrong and that subtle, subliminal, comfort was what was needed. She pulled back the sheets and slipped her legs out and off the bed, letting them dangle over the side, and swallowed as she wondered if she should cast a charm over him to ease his sleep. She reached for her wand and knocked it with her fumbling fingers.

She heard the wood rolling against the surface of the bedside table and tried to grab the wand before it fell off the edge and clattered to the floor. Gasping, Hermione lunged and knocked a glass of water over and cringed as it tinkled but didn't break. The water began dripping over the edge and Hermione felt the end of her wand and grabbed it as she stood up to clean up the spill on the floor.

Just as she was standing, something at her feet moved and let out a sound of discomfort.

"Ugh!"

She jumped in shock and sparks flew from the tip of her wand, momentarily lighting the room like a tiny red lighting bolt, and she saw two huge eyes turning on her from the floor. She screamed and aimed her wand down at the intruder.

"Don't you fucking touch him!" the intruder yelled as he threw himself at Hermione's legs and she was sent crashing to the floor.

There was a fearful shout from the direction of Ron's bed and a pounding sound growing louder outside the bedroom door. The door burst open and a lit wand illuminated the room. Harry's voice came from behind it and sounded absolutely furious.

"_Stupefy!_"

Hermione screamed and flattened herself to the floorboards. She saw the person she had been struggling with do the same and the room filled with bright light she recognised him.

"Lee!" she yelled. "It's Lee Harry, stop!"

Lee was in the process of swinging his wand around towards Harry as if it was a club when he froze and stared at Hermione lying on the floor beside him.

"What? Hermione?" Lee looked up at the panting figure in the doorway. "Harry?"

There were more thundering footsteps now and the huge figure of Charlie dressed only in his boxers slammed into Harry's back and aimed his wand at the ready.

"Arthur, Arthur, what is it?" Molly screamed as Mr Weasley appeared behind Charlie.

"Lee, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?" Harry roared. "I could have fucking killed you!"

"You coulda killed Ron!" Lee yelled back defensively, struggling to his feet and glaring at Harry.

Hermione gasped and turned to look in the direction of Ron's bed. He was standing on it, looking like a fox cornered by a bloodthirsty pack of hounds, and brandishing the shelf he had torn from his wall in the commotion. All his Quidditch collectibles were scattered on top of the bed where they had fallen.

"Ron are you al--" Hermione began.

"Get out," Ron snarled angrily.

"It's okay." Harry tried to smile reassuringly to his best friend through the panic and anger he was clearly feeling.

"It's just us," Lee said as he turned to take a step towards Ron and held out his hand to help him down from the bed.

"GET OUT!" Ron roared as he gripped the wooden shelf and drew back the improvised weapon threateningly.

"We're leaving, Son," Arthur said immediately, gripping Charlie's shoulder and pulling him away from the door. "Everybody's going to leave you alone now, all right?"

"Just go," Ron said through gritted teeth, body still tensed up like a tightly coiled spring.

Hermione's throat constricted and her eyes stung with tears. She could hear Molly expressing her reluctance to leave Ron alone in his room after such a scare. Charlie let himself be forcibly removed by his father, while Harry and Lee were both glaring at each other accusingly.

The fact that the evacuation from Ron's room wasn't done with as much urgency as he needed it to happen, Ron swung the splintered lump of wood into his Quidditch World Cup souvenirs on the window ledge and smashed them to the floor while bellowing at them all.

"Get the fuck out of my room and leave me the fuck alone for _one fucking second_!"

Hermione grabbed hold of Lee's sweatshirt and tried to drag him towards the door with her but he knocked her hand away and lunged for Harry, shoving him at Hermione and fuming with anger at the state Ron was in.

"You heard him, get out!" Lee scowled. "You're suffocating him! He doesn't need all this."

Harry was about to rage at Lee that this whole upset had been caused by him sneaking into Ron's room in the middle of the night when Ron threw the broken shelf down to the floor between them and fixed his wild eyes on Lee.

"_All_ of you."

"But...Ron," Lee blinked in confusion.

Ron leapt from his bed and threw himself between the pair of them, shoving them bodily towards the door and hitting them both as he did.

"Get out, get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!" he ranted.

"_Please_," Hermione choked as she pulled the two boys out with her, "just do what he says…leave him alone to calm down."

Harry tripped over the end of the rug and fell backwards into Hermione who slammed into Charlie's solid chest behind her just as the bedroom door was slammed in Lee's face. He flinched and stood staring at the little plaque that said 'Ronald's Room'.

"Well done, Lee," Harry said angrily.

"No!" Arthur said as he grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and steered him towards the stairs. "This was all a big mess and we need to make sure it doesn't happen again but you two will _not_ fall out over this."

"No," Molly agreed, voice trembling, "Arthur's right. I won't hear of it."

Charlie put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and gave her a gentle hug as he guided her after his parents and a white-with-fury Harry Potter. Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see if Lee was coming with them and saw Ginny, who up until that moment had been invisible to her, taking Lee's hand and pulling him along behind her.

"You can't force Ron to let you look after him, Lee. Come on, let's go downstairs and have a cuppa. Maybe if we give him some time he'll pull himself together and join us."

"I didn't mean to...he knows he can trust me, why did he ask me to leave?"

"He asked _all_ of us to leave," Ginny reminded him.

Hermione turned around at the top of the stairs and fixed Lee's eyes with a look that told him she knew exactly what Lee's problem was.

"Ah, but Ginny, Lee's special…Lee's better than us."

Lee stared at Hermione for a few second and then looked down at his feet.

"I don't think that," he mumbled.

"Well, maybe you want Ron to think it," Charlie said before he prodded Hermione into setting off down the stairs after the others. "C'mon."

* * *

_A/N I know a lot of you were asking after Hermione in previous chapters so I hope you liked her appearence in this chapter. I thought a slow build up was in order seeing as she's trying to take it slowly with Ron._


	5. Reparo

**Reparo**

Ron was curled up into a ball, leaning against the bedroom door to keep anyone from trying to get in, and dwelling on what a loony he must have appeared to the others.

Hermione would never want to spend the night with him again. He'd just chased Lee out as if he was nobody to him, as if he was yet another outsider who couldn't understand. He was putting a growing chasm between himself and Harry and while he hated the idea of being stuck inside his room, he couldn't face opening the door.

He traced a crack in the wooden panelling with his fingertip and thought about how he used to pass the time in his cell when it was quiet. It was amazing really-- he could block out the smell of stale urine and vomit, sweat and blood, snoring and crying, and more than anything else he could block out what he'd suffered that day and the fear of what was to come tomorrow. At that moment he was safe, he wouldn't be tortured tomorrow, and he wouldn't have to make an agonising decision in order to get food and drink.

'_Firebrand_'

Ron flinched and his whole body tensed. He was panting and sweating and his eyes frantically searched the empty room for signs of the Puppet Master.

"Ron, it's me." Charlie whispered from the other side of the door. "Are you asleep?"

"G-Go 'way!" Ron said, shaking all over as if he was freezing while burning on the inside as if he was being burned alive.

"Okay, I'll tell 'em not to knock and just wait 'till you come down, okay?"

"Tell 'em to le-le-lea'me alone."

"I will, and they will, I promise." Charlie said calmly.

Ron was still leaning heavily against the door as if expecting his wishes to be ignored and everybody to come piling in, smothering him with concern.

"Please just g-go away!" Ron whimpered into the door.

"Okay, I'm going," Charlie said, as if backing away from a wounded animal he didn't want to frighten away. "I'm going. I l..." Charlie paused for few seconds before speaking again. "I'm going."

Ron rubbed his face roughly and rested his head against the door, closing his eyes.

"_Je bent dood, klootzak_." Ron muttered to himself through gritted teeth, banging his head against the door, "_Jij kan mij niets maken_."

Ron drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs tightly.

"I'm not your bloody F-F-F..._Firebrand_!"

He could feel that same feeling he had in the cells when he knew the Puppet Master was looking at him. He would hear the footsteps echoing off the walls and he knew it was him before he saw him, before he spoke. He could feel his hands dragging down his back. The air around him smelled of that vile breath. It was wet and hot against the side of his face and suddenly he could taste fingers in his mouth, pushing warm juicy cooked meat between his lips. Ron grimaced and turned his face right into the door.

"_Laat me alleen_!"

'_Oh but Firebrand...I will never leave you.'_

"You're dead. You're dead; Ch-Ch-Charlie said you were."

'_Charlie would say anything to make you sleep better, would he not?"_

"_Je bent dood_!" Ron growled.

'_He lied to you, Firebrand.'_

"He woul-wouldn't," Ron stammered breathlessly. "He didn't."

'_How do you know? You saw no body. Moody says he burnt me to ashes...yet he did not do this to the others in the brotherhood. He lied!'_

"Get out of my head!" Ron yelled at the empty room.

He was breathing heavily and shocked to see the sunlight pouring in through the window. He must have fallen asleep. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and slumped back against the wall beside the door. There were two loud cracks in the centre of the room and Ron yelled out in shock and raised his arms before him like a shield.

"It's okay, Ron, it's us!" Fred said anxiously as he squatted down and ducked his head to catch Ron's eye.

"You ba-ba-ba," Ron stammered. "You've no right to d-do that!"

"You were screaming, Ron," George said as he got down on his knees behind Fred and tried to smile. "We weren't going to ignore that."

"W-Well I'm fi-fine, so gerout!" Ron ordered tremulously.

"Wanna Cheering Charm?" Fred offered as he fumbled inside his robe.

"Why won't you ju-just fuck off?" Ron pleaded with them. "Wha-Whatcha doin' here anywa-way?"

"We came to calm Lee down and take him home," George explained.

"But he wouldn't leave," Fred added.

"So we didn't leave," George finished with a shrug.

"Y-You st...Y'still had no business coming in here like th-that!" Ron scowled.

"We didn't," Fred agreed, "but you scared us so we Apparated up here and we're sorry we freaked you out. We'll go now that we know you're okay."

"And here," George plunged his hand inside his robes and pulled out a massive slab of Honeyduke's chocolate, "peace offering to make you feel better."

Ron narrowed his eyes at the chocolate bar suspiciously.

"Whaddaya lace it with?"

The twins looked at each other and smiled before George set the chocolate bar down on the floor before Ron.

"It's just chocolate, Ronniekins. That's enough to make you feel better on its own."

Ron didn't say anything to them; he simply watched as they stood, stepped back and Disapparated out of the room.

* * *

Hermione sat in the library and spread out every book she had managed to carry to the table with her. She reached for the quill she had put behind her ear and frowned as she found it had gone. She spun around on the spot and looked at the floor to see where it had fallen but it was nowhere to be seen.

She blinked and ran her hand over her bushy hair with a 'hmph' and felt the quill sticking out of her mass of brown hair like a dart. Rolling her eyes, Hermione slipped the quill from her hair and set it down on the table. She pulled out a chair and sat down with a bracing huff.

There had to be some kind of Wizarding therapy for trauma like Ron's. Surely, the Wizarding world didn't just throw potions at the problem like Muggles did pills in her world. Her mother's words had sunk in deeply and after she came home and burst into tears about how upset Ron had been during her overnight stay. She decided to try and find some evidence of therapy being used by magical folk.

Surely, they must have it...surely.

She scanned the contents page of _It's Not Cowardice–-It's Terror_ by Robert Levin and tried to find a chapter heading that didn't make her want to scream about out-dated terms. There was a frightening foreword detailing the years the author spent as head Healer of a magical asylum. There was some mention of hypnosis having helped patients suffering from night terrors that even dreamless sleep draught couldn't suppress. Hermione fanned through the pages, just catching a blur that was an engraving of the _Cruciatus_ curse being used on a patient's chakras in order to drive out his 'madness', and soon found the passage she was looking for.

She picked up her quill and began scratching notes on a roll of parchment while somebody cleared their throat noisily and another person nearby began whispering to somebody on the other side of the index cards. Hermione was used to people not respecting the sanctity of the library and read on. Biting her lip as she re-read a few lines about using hypnosis to relax the patient into a state of sleep for the night Hermione didn't take much notice of the person taking a seat opposite her.

"Excuse me," a prim male voice said in a low tone.

Hermione kept on reading and reached over with her quill still in her hand and pulled the pile of books towards her to clear some space for the man to use.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled distractedly.

"No, I mean, excuse me for interrupting your research, Hermione, but I really think I have what you're looking for."

Hermione looked over the top of her book and gave a start on seeing Percy Weasley looking back at her through his distinctive glasses.

"Percy! I haven't seen you for...since...well, the trial."

"I know," Percy nodded. "I've been occupied with trying to block those letters to Ron from Azkaban. Apparently, we haven't got a leg to stand on to prevent the vile man sending them, but we can turn a blind eye to the family intercepting them before they get to Ronald. Technically, that's a crime."

"So keeping a victim of abuse from receiving letters from one of his abusers is a crime but the abuser sending them in the first place isn't?" Hermione said as she slammed the book down heavily.

"As I said Hermione, I've been trying to stop it, pass a law or change the existing one but...because of the mess I made of things with Mr Crouch and then Dolores Umbridge, I'm afraid my recommendation counts for very little in the Ministry." Percy said with a despondent sigh.

"Does the name Weasley get you nowhere, Percy?" Hermione hissed across the table at him.

"The name Weasley makes me a hysterical relative and even less able to get anything done," Percy said bitterly.

Hermione sat back and exhaled her disappointment at this news on top of everything else.

"Well, I have to find something to give him some relief without hooking him on potions so unless you came to share your depression then..."

Percy slipped a small business card between the open pages of the book she was reading and got up from his seat.

"I recommended her to the Prangs and they said she really helped. I spoke to her about seeing Ron. I'll pay for it...well, the Ministry will cover it as a family dependant of a key employee, and anytime he wants to make an appointment, she'll fit him in."

"Who is she? A Healer? An apothecary?" Hermione blinked as she took the card between thumb and forefinger and read the slightly raised print, shimmering and moving under the light like an oil slick on the road.

"She's a very rare kind of Healer. She's managed to help people recover from the onset of madness caused by the Cruciatus curse and various other unpleasant things potions and spells can do nothing to ease."

"She's a magical therapist?" Hermione's eyes widened as she looked closely at the card with hope swelling in her heart.

"She's a Healer...but not in the physical sense," Percy frowned as he struggled to explain himself.

"We have something similar, Muggles, I mean. We have people who heal...bad thoughts and feelings, and they're called therapists."

"Oh, well then, I suppose she is." Percy blinked and sat back in his chair at the news the Muggles were more advanced than the Wizarding world in something.

"And you say she helped the Prangs?" Hermione asked before biting her bottom lip anxiously.

"Yes, well as much as you can ease the pain of a family who had their only son eaten."

Hermione paled and Percy shifted in his seat at having been quite as blunt as he had.

"Anyway," Percy shook his head, and that thought, away to continue. "I spoke to her about Ronald's speech impediment and she said that it was very common amongst veterans of prolonged wars. She said she could clear up what his speech therapy didn't."

Hermione smiled very slightly. Ron's stutter frustrated him so much. In a way, she found it endearing, but in another, she hated how much worse it would get when he was upset about something. It had been her worst temptation, the need to finish his sentences for him, but she held her tongue and let him soldier on. She knew what it meant to be allowed to finish what he wanted to say.

"He..." Hermione began and then paused before sighing and slumping over the desk to whisper to Percy over the books. "He had a bad night last night. He won't leave his room. We all dealt with it so badly, even Lee."

Percy paled and nodded to the card in her hand.

"Please get him to go and see her. I hate hearing stories like that."

"Why don't you come to the house and suggest it yourself?" Hermione asked, not holding out any hope for an answer in the affirmative.

Percy looked down as he rose from his seat and straightened his robes.

"They're all going through enough without me pushing reconciliation on them."

"You're already reconciled, Percy, don't be silly."

"Waiting with them at a foreign embassy for news on my kidnapped brother isn't reconciliation, Hermione. Let's not solve my problems before we've addressed Ron's, eh?" Percy winced as he spoke.

Hermione had to admit he was right. Percy nodded a silent goodbye and disappeared back into the maze of book cases with a heavy sigh. Hermione looked back down at the card.

_Madam Boo_

_Healer of trauma-related misery_

_Approved by St Mungo's_

_Descended from St Jude_

_No cause lost enough_

* * *

Lee didn't show up that afternoon and Harry tried not to seem too relieved about it. He liked Lee--yes, he was jealous of how close Ron had become with him at the expense of their friendship but he had nothing but gratitude towards him for being so loyal and protective of Ron during his time as the Puppet Master's plaything.

Lee's absence meant Ron needed another person to help him with his speech therapy that afternoon and Harry had stepped up before anybody else could even draw a breath. Speech therapy had been the only thing to draw Ron out of his room all day and he'd done it without coaxing so nobody mentioned the night's events or his self-induced exile throughout the day. Ron had simply come down the stairs, flash cards in hand, and glanced into the kitchen before stepping into the living room. Harry closed the door behind him and sat down on the coffee table opposite Ron on the sofa.

Harry took a deep breath in and out before reaching forward and taking the flash cards from Ron and shuffling them between his hands.

"So, are you ready?" Harry said, avoiding direct eye contact with Ron and holding up a card in front of him.

Ron nodded and puffed out his cheeks before sitting up and clearing his throat.

"Peter's put a pristine pair of p-p...of p-" Ron gritted his teeth and huffed through his nose.

"From the beginning," Harry said, reading the advice on the back of the card, "only do it faster, don't think about it."

"Peter's put a pristine pair of purple paisley patterned p-pa-PANTS on!" Ron raised his voice in annoyance at having stalled towards the end but Harry smiled at him and put the card at the back of the pack.

"Okay," he said calmly as he read the back of the card while Ron swallowed and read the front, "read me the third word."

"Barnabus." Ron said with a nod of reassurance to himself.

"What's the other name in the sentence?"

"Bobby," Ron said with determination.

"Say 'em both back to back," Harry said gripping the card as he watched Ron draw in a deep breath and begin.

"Bobby, Barnabus, Bobby, Barnabus, Bobby, Barnabus..."

"What's your oldest brother's name?" Harry threw in quickly.

"Bill!" Ron responded as if he'd been given a shock.

"Add him to the list!" Harry said, getting quite caught up in the excitement himself.

"Bobby, Barnab-Barnab-bus, Bill, FUCK!" Ron huffed angrily.

"Ignore it, keep going," Harry said encouragingly.

"Bobby, Barnabus, Bill, Bobby, Barnabus, Bill, Bobby, Barna-"

"Add your middle name," Harry said with a cocky grin.

"Oh, you fucker!" Ron smiled ruefully before closing his eyes and going for it. "Barnabus, Bill, Bilius, Bobby, Barnabus, Bill, Bilius, Blobby, Blarnablus, oh cock it up a drainpipe!" Ron huffed before bursting into giggles.

Harry laughed along with him and held the card directly in front of Ron's face.

"Read the card and add your own last word."

"Bobby bought Barnabus a big blue book about buggery!" Ron sniggered.

Harry moved the card to the back of the pack and grinned at Ron who smiled back at him and rolled his eyes at having such a bizarre daily routine. Harry's smile faded gradually and set down the stack of cards onto his lap.

"Ron..."

"Harry hasn't had his...happy..." Ron was struggling for more words that began with 'h' before he leaned forward on his knees and ducked his head to look up into Harry's green eyes. "You're still my best mate, yeah?"

Harry lifted his hand and gripped Ron's shoulder without thinking about it and, though Ron physically tensed beneath his touch, his eyes didn't even flicker.

"You never have to ask me that. You are always, _always_, going to be my best friend."

"I'm worried tha--" Ron stopped speaking mid-word by choice that time, biting his lip and shaking his head as if cancelling out the sentence he had begun to say.

"Tell me," Harry said with a softly delivered tone determination.

"I'm worried that the things you liked about me...I've lost."

Harry gave Ron's shoulder a slight shake and focused in on the shifting blue eyes, jaw lifting defiantly and confidence almost radiating out of him.

"Tell me what it is I liked about you."

Ron swallowed and looked off to one side before starting his list.

"I used to cheer you up," he said, quietly. "You used to come to me when you felt bad and...come to me to lighten the load and now I just stack all my problems on you."

"Go on." Harry nodded, eyes burning yet refusing to blink.

"I know you think the reason they...he...the reason it was me was because of you and..."

"Tell me what I liked about you before this happened, Ron," Harry said fiercely.

Ron sat up and stared Harry in the eye.

"I'm funny and I gave you a family and a place to call home and I never let you go it alone...well, not by choice!"

Harry snorted at that and Ron almost smiled before regaining his resolve and continuing.

"I back you up and I give you everything, even though I haven't got anything worth giving." Ron's eyes shone and Harry eased his grip on his shoulder to rub back and forth ever so slightly. "I hate the same people you do and I...wish you had a better life, Harry, I really do."

"What I liked about _you,_ Ron!" Harry reminded him sternly.

"Oh Merlin knows!" Ron snapped. "You tell me? What the hell do I do for you, Harry? What good am I to you? What good was I then and what bloody good am I now?"

"I feel like shit and I really need a cuddle right this minute, Ron," Harry said in barely a whisper.

Ron gulped and paled all in one. He squirmed in his seat and leaned into Harry's extended arm, breath shortening and muscles tensing. His hand lifted to reach for Harry as he drew closer and Harry gripped his friend's shoulder once again and pushed him back with a proud smile.

"That's what you do for me, Ron," Harry said, almost choking with emotion. "You tear yourself in two to give me what I need the second I need it, no matter how much it might harm you in the process. You were gonna fucking hug me. You do realise what you were going to make yourself do just then right?"

Ron's mouth gaped like a goldfish for a moment before his head dropped and his he let out a tremulous breath. There was a knock on the door and Ron flinched.

"Boys? Would you like some tea in there?" Mrs Weasley called through the old wooden door.

Ron turned his head from the door back to Harry and shook it in a panic.

"No, thank you, Mrs Weasley," Harry called back in a chirpy tone. "We're both fine."

They heard her shuffle away without another word and Harry lifted the next card up again. Ron didn't look at it; he was looking at Harry over the top and nudging him with his knee.

"You sl-sleeping in our room again tonight, or would you rather not after...?" Ron shrugged self consciously.

"I'm having my bed back, yes," Harry said before holding the flash card closer to Ron. "Need to borrow my glasses or can you see it okay?"

Ron smiled and kicked Harry in the shin gently.

"Never knowingly neglect Nora Neagle's Knockers on Nickanan Night."

They both smirked and Harry moved onto the next card without a word.


	6. Welcome To My World

**Welcome to My World**

Floella sat across from her son at the table and tried not to watch him as intently as she wanted to. He had left in the night to go to Ron's and then come home looking shaken, one of the twins on either side of him to hold him up. She'd just grabbed hold of him and held him to her tightly.

As the twins left, she guided Lee up the stairs to his room and let him babble about messing things up and upsetting Ron and his family.

"All I wanted to do is make sure he's doing okay," he'd said shakily. "I just wanted be there for him and I totally bollixed it up and he can't trust me anymore!"

"Come now, I know that isn't true, hush now, honey," Floella said as she rubbed her hand against the bumpy skin of her son's scarred back.

"You didn't see how he looked at me!" Lee yelled into her shoulder and gripped the front of her nightgown with both fists. "It was like he didn't even see me there, like I was no better than them!"

"Who?" Floella had asked him in confusion. "The Death Eaters?"

"No _them_, Harry and Hermione and his family," Lee growled into her neck and shuddered with the strength of his emotion.

There was a long pause as Floella took this in. She patted the back of her boy's head and kissed a stack of messy dreadlocks before sighing.

"Why do you want to be better than them, honey? They're his people. They're your friends. Fred and George and their family, isn't that good enough?"

"I didn't mean they weren't..." Lee said, realising what he had just said and trying to pull away from his mother to meet her accusing eyes.

Floella released him and smiled kindly, not wanting him to read a single judgemental frown line on her face.

"You miss how much he needed you, only you."

"They weren't there, Mum," Lee said, almost ashamed of himself. "He came out of hospital and I came here and he went there and he still needed me. Harry wasn't there."

"Harry would have been if he could have been."

"But he _wasn't_!"

"Hermione would have been if she could have been," Floella said in the same even tone.

"She wasn't either, none of them were."

"All of them wanted to take your place...his place...any place to be there for you boys. Fred and George were torn between the two of you and you don't want to make them chose now, do you? Now that they don't have to because they have you both safe?"

"I have to..._I_ have to!" Lee almost tore Floella's nightgown as he gripped even tighter and pounded ever so gently against her chest.

"You did more than enough in that place, honey, and Ron...he knows it. He is scared and adjusting and you can't make him have to worry about making you feel needed."

"But...but..." Lee's body shuddered.

"You have to let go and adjust to sleeping out of reach and you've got to trust that you're still going to be as close in the morning without forcing your closeness on him."

"I wouldn't force him to do anything. You should have seen them, Mum. They all came barging into his room like--"

"Like people who almost lost their son and friend and brother and heard a commotion in his bedroom in the middle of the night?"

Lee leaned heavily into her and they sat together for some considerable time before he finally spoke again.

"He doesn't need me anymore."

"He'll always need a friend, his adopted brother."

"That's Harry."

"That's both of you."

* * *

It was gone midnight when Charlie came home, aching all over from helping Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest and then having an over-zealous wrestling match with Grawp. He stretched and groaned as he wandered over to the pantry to grab a bottle of Butterbeer to send him off to a well earned sleep. 

"You're late tonight," a bored sounding voice from behind him made him jump and spin around, wand drawn and Butterbeer frothing over. "Oh sorry."

Charlie relaxed immediately on seeing his youngest brother sitting at the kitchen table and rolling a small phial of Dreamless Sleep Draught back and forth between thumb and forefinger in front of him.

"Hey, runt," Charlie smiled and pulled out a chair beside him.

He was about to give Ron a pat on the back when he froze and corrected himself. He relaxed back into his seat and swigged a mouthful of Butterbeer.

"Still bi-bigger than you, y'know?" Ron smiled tiredly.

"Only upwards," Charlie mumbled into the top of his bottle.

Ron gave a slight laugh and Charlie sniggered.

"So I've the length and you've the girth, eh?" Ron cocked an eyebrow lazily. "Together we could probably get any woman we want."

Charlie snorted before his expression grew serious once again.

"Thought you already had a woman?"

Ron looked down at the table top and pushed his stubby thumbnail into a small crack in the wood.

"Can't make her wait forever."

"You think that's all she's waiting for? Sex, snogging, hand holding?"

"Charlie!" Ron blushed and squirmed in his seat.

"Well, wait for what then?"

"For me, for me to c-come back to her like I wa-was before."

"You were a prat to her before as far as I'm aware," Charlie stated, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. "I reckon she's getting a better deal with this you. You're all sensitive and not trying to get into her knickers like most blokes your age."

"Oh pi-piss off!" Ron sniggered.

"Nah," Charlie teased, "all you have to do is start talking about your _feelings_ all the time and maybe cry at the sight of cute little kittens and she'll be well happy!"

"You're a git," Ron smiled and punched Charlie in the shoulder.

"Well, you're a prat." Charlie punched back, almost knocking Ron out of his seat.

They grinned at each other for a couple of seconds before Charlie nodded down to the phial on the table.

"You taking that or not?"

"N-Not," Ron said decisively. "It's too late now; I'll be all groggy until noo-noon if I do and I want to go f-for a fly with Harry after breakfast."

"Cool," Charlie said before holding out his hand for Ron to hand him the phial.

Ron set it into the large, roughened palm and watched as Charlie got up and placed it back in the rack with the others. When he turned around Ron was still staring up at him from the table thoughtfully.

"You're sure he's dead, right?" Ron said out of the blue.

"What?" Charlie blinked before nodding vigorously. "Oh _him_! Yeah, definitely, I made very sure."

Ron drew in a shuddering breath and nodded before getting up from the table quietly.

"Do you sometimes fe-feel like you still have blood on your hands?"

Charlie watched his brother staring out the window at the shadows caused by the moon filtering through the trees outside.

"I sometimes feel like that, yeah," Charlie nodded, "but I sometimes feel like trying to find his ashes just to grind them under my foot, too."

Ron turned to blink at Charlie, astonished by his honesty, and took a step towards him.

"I sometimes wi-wish you didn't burn him, you and Moo-Moody."

"Why?" Charlie said, throat constricting at this, their first real conversation about what they'd done that day.

"'Cause he's not dead to me," Ron said blankly. "I never saw it."

Charlie's heart sank deep into his bowels and weighed him down like a broken pendulum swinging from his chest.

"I did, he is, I promise." He strained to reassure his brother.

Ron smiled sadly and waved just above his right shoulder as if Pig was balanced there and he was petting his feathered head.

"Right there," Ron said, voice low and cracking, "I can always feel him lurking right there. N-Never been gone."

Charlie wanted to be able to rip the Puppet Master's memory right out of existence at that moment and struggled for something to say. Ron shrugged, cleared his throat and smiled a little wider before setting off for the stairs.

"Well, g'night then, Charlie."

"'Night," Charlie said blankly and sank back down into his empty chair.

* * *

Fergus and Seamus were playing pool in the Cheshire Cheese Pub on Tower Hill and Seamus was smoking so heavily a cloud hung above them both as they worked their way around the baize. 

"Yeh do know what yer doin' teh me don't cha, Fergus?" asked Seamus as he potted a red and sniffed with idle satisfaction before changing his angle and going for another.

"Oh tell me," Fergus groaned, "please, Shay, just throw it on the list. I'm all ears. Did I cause that big hole in the ozone layer? Was it me who ate all the pies at Upton Park? Am I now to confess to the Whitechapel murders because I went drinking in Petticoat Lane last week?"

"It's better 'n that," Seamus said, potting another yellow and manoeuvring himself around the table to reach under for the extendable spider to rest his cue upon for a tricky shot. "Apparently since you got outta that slaughterhouse in Holland we've become a limited company."

"Yehwha?" Fergus frowned as Seamus fluffed his carefully angled shot and potted the white.

"Ah shite," he hissed, bending over to put away the extendable spider. "Well, apparently when you burp I'm expected to say excuse me."

"I'm still not wi'ya, Shay," Fergus shook his head and reached for his pint of the black suff.

"I'm saying me Ma thinks the pot and kettle are as black as each other and if y're a drunk, then I must be an'all."

"Oh fer...Not Auntie Kath, as well?" Fergus almost choked on his Guinness as he set it down on the table behind him and wiped his chin clean.

"I'm setting ya a bad example," Seamus said, leaning over the table and pitching his voice up a few octaves to make himself sound like the typical nagging mother. "Ye should be keepin' him away from those places. Where are you while he's getting arrested, Seamus?"

"Jaysis, I'm sorry, Shay, they're the bloody same no matter how much they bitch about each other. As if yeh haven't got yer own shite happenin'...wi' Dean and tha'."

Seamus moved away from the table and leaned against the wall, reaching blindly for his pint and face registering no emotion at all.

"Five minutes too late, what can yeh do, eh?" he shrugged. "S'yer go."

"Is it?" Fergus blinked as he surveyed the table and chose an angle. "I'm tellin' ya Shay, I've gotta get outta that house, move out properly, ye'know? She's driving me up the wall."

"Ya ain't goin' anywhere without me ya gobshite. If you go, I go."

"Deal." Fergus nodded before potting the yellow in the top left corner.

* * *

There was a knock at the front door and Lee listened intently. Everybody he could think would visit would come via Floo. He heard his mother striding down the hallway, wiping her hands on her trousers, and blowing a hair out of her face. The door clicked open and he heard his mother's '_You are my long lost child, do come in and eat everything you see_' voice. 

"Ron! Get off my doorstep, boy. Why are you knocking? Don't you have a key? I'll get you a key!"

Lee would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so nervous at Ron having come to his house to see him. He could hear Ron laughing and leaned around the door to see his mother all fingers and thumbs about not touching him while waving him through to the living room enthusiastically.

"Your brother's in there. Go through and I'll bring some ice cold pumpkin juice and get you that key, go."

"I really don't need a key, Mrs Jordan," Ron said, still chuckling about the fuss being made over him.

Lee felt suddenly nervous as he saw Ron's shadow on the wall and scurried back into the centre of the room to attempt a casual pose that didn't make him look absolutely terrified at a possible confrontation. Ron stepped through and smiled at Lee, ears a little pink beneath his hair.

"Your mum's getting us something to drink," Ron said as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I heard," Lee nodded and gave an awkward laugh. "She's really into this brother thing, y'know. I can tell her to stop if you don't like it."

Ron's shoulders fell a little and he squinted at Lee cautiously.

"Would you rather she didn't?"

"Only if you'd rather," Lee blurted.

"Would you rather _I_ didn't?" Ron asked pointedly.

Lee's voice lowered and his smile relaxed.

"I really like it."

"Good," Ron beamed and moved towards him to drop into a seat nearby, "so I missed you yesterday afternoon. Harry had to do my vocal exercises with me."

Lee tried not to let his displeasure at this show as he sat beside Ron and clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Oh...well you sound great for it. He must be good."

"He's brilliant at it," Ron nodded, staring right into Lee's shifting eyes, "just like you are. It's not a competition, right?"

"'Course not!" Lee scoffed.

"'Cause..." Ron looked vaguely hurt as he spoke, "you never came and you never owled and...I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry I threw you out."

Lee opened his mouth to tell Ron he had nothing to apologise for just as his mother came in with two huge glasses of pumpkin juice, dripping with ice cold condensation, and a huge smile on her face.

"Here you go Yin and Yang," she said as she handed the drinks to them.

"Thanks, Mrs Jordan," Ron said with a smile as he took the glass before it dripped an unfortunate damp patch on an unfortunate area of his jeans.

"Cheers, Mum," Lee mumbled.

"Is there anything else I can get you? Shall I make some-"

"Mum!" Lee snapped, eyes wide and trying to discreetly nod towards the door to get her to leave them alone.

"I'm going to go and knock for Tommy and see if he wants to go into Diagon Alley with me. We'll eat there if he does." Ron said.

"Oh, but a slice of Jamaica Cake won't hurt, will it?" Lee's mum said with a knowing grin.

Ron gave a one shouldered shrug and a lopsided smile before holding his thumb and forefinger a little way apart.

"Maybe a little one."

Lee's mum beamed and Lee rolled his eyes and wanted to escort her physically from the living room to get some privacy.

"Oh and here's your key," she said as she reached into her pocket and handed Ron a silver key on a pineapple key ring.

"No, I really don't need a front door key, Mrs Jordan. This is your house and I'm..."

"I am Floella to you, not Mrs Jordan," Lee's mother said warmly, "and Lee's home is your home so you keep that key, you hear?"

Ron looked embarrassed as he reached for the key and stuffed it into his pocket.

"I'll still knock, y'know?" he said with a petulant smile.

"I don't doubt it, Ron," Lee's mum smirked before turning to leave and then turning back thoughtfully, causing Lee to scream internally in frustration. "And can I just say that you're sounding so good today."

Ron conceded she was right with a shrug and a nod.

"It's better when I'm relaxed and concentrating on it. I get a bit lazy as it gets late though. Sometimes, I'm so paranoid about it I'll slip up and then it'll snowball."

"Ah well, you can relax here, so that's why you don't have a problem, right honey?" Lee's mum looked at him proudly.

"Yeah, right Mum. Could we have a minute, d'you think?"

"Of course, I'm getting Ron his slice of ginger cake," she said as she made her way out of the room before throwing her arms wide. "Oh! I never even realised it before."

"What's that Mrs...Floella," Ron said hesitantly.

"Jamaica cake is made with ginger. Jamaican ginger cake and look at you two boys, you're Jamaican and you're ginger!"

"Mum!" Lee exclaimed.

"Oh, I'm going, I'm going, I'll leave you brothers be."

Lee dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

"You see why I come to your house so much?"

"So that's what it's like for you with my mother?" Ron asked, eyebrows arched.

"That's what it's like for you when she does that to me?" Lee asked, blinking at the sudden realisation.

"Welcome to my world," Ron shrugged.

* * *

"Shall I set the table up again or d'yeh have te get home ta ya Ma?" Seamus asked Fergus as the older cousin drained his glass. 

"You rack 'em up and I'll get 'em in," Fergus said darkly, making it clear he was not going to be running home to anybody.

As Seamus snorted and Fergus set off back to the bar, his mobile phone rang in his back pocket. Fergus scrunched up his face and thought about ignoring it. He hated that he knew it had to be his mother, none of his magical friends had one and the only reason he carried his was because of his new knack of getting arrested in the Muggle world. He pulled the phone out of his pocket when he noticed the barman staring at him, clearly annoyed by the ring tone, and he looked at the flashing window.

_Tommy calling_

Fergus answered immediately.

"Hey Tom, I fergot ya had my number, sorry mate. I' have answered sooner if I'd ha-"

"_Fergus, where are you? Are you in Muggle London or Magical London?"_

"Muggle, why?" Fergus asked, putting his finger in his ear to block out the noise of the bar.

"_We tried going_ _for a drink in Diagon Alley and Skeeter showed up and drew attention to us."_

"Shite, that poisonous auld hag, come teh us. Shay's here too."

"_Where's here?_"

"Cheshire Cheese," Fergus said, "Yeh can Floo into an upstairs room and come down into the bar. It's an ol' wartime escape route nobody but our family use anymore."

"_Cheshire Cheese, right, coming."_

Tommy hung up and Fergus caught the barman's attention.

"Give us five pints o'Guinness, please."

When the lads arrived Lee looked tense and Tommy looked resigned to never being able to fit in at places like Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Ron was acting chipper enough, but his stutter was really bad and that gave him away instantly. Nobody spoke of what might or might not have gone on with the tabloid hack so Fergus assumed denial was the dish of the day all round.

"Wanna game, Weasley?" Seamus said as he potted the black and handed his empty glass to Fergus to claim his victory pint.

"I dun-dun-dunno how to play." Ron said as he examined the blue cube that sat on the side of the table curiously.

"We'll do doubles, one Finnigan and one novice on either side, yeh up fer it?"

Ron nodded and picked up a cue and watched Seamus set up the table.

"You go, Lee. I'm not a novice but I am shit," Tommy smiled as he nudged Lee to join Ron and Seamus at the table.

"Try anything once, eh?" Lee smiled and winked at Ron.

"So w-w-wha-what do I have t'd-do wi'this?" Ron stammered as he held up his cue.

"Well, yeh saw us playin' just now didn't ya? We knock the white ball, that's the cue ball, around the table an' try teh pot the rest of the balls without sinking the cue ball itself," Seamus explained.

Ron gave a single nod.

"K-Kay."

"But yeh saw how I was goin' after the reds last time and Fergus the yella's?"

Ron nodded again and Lee leaned in closer to pay attention.

"Well, when we start playin' we can go fer either, not the black, that's gotta be the last to go, that's like the Snitch. It wins the game for ya in a way."

"Yer pint ya jammy git," Fergus said as he pushed another Guinness into Seamus' hand. "So who am I with then?"

"Me," Lee said, almost apologetically.

"Nice one! Let me get yeh some lather fer ya lips so we can take these two teh the cleaners," Fergus said as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them happily.

"I've still not finished the first one, Fergus. I'm fine." Lee held up he barely touched pint.

"Well, drink up an' I'll get ya a refresher yer lightweight!" Fergus teased as he nudged Lee in the ribs.

"I can't hear ya drinkin'!" Fergus said with his back turned to Lee and towards a small group of attractive Muggle women filling chairs around a tiny table not far away from the pool table.

One of them had long blonde hair and was eyeing the lads at the pool table. Fergus caught the eye of an exotic-looking woman with curly, black hair and a skimpy little sky blue top that shimmered when she giggled or tossed her hair. She looked him up and down, turned to her slightly dowdier friend and whispered something. The dowdy girl looked at Fergus and nodded before turning back to watch the lesson at the table.

"It gets decided by whatever yeh pot first, so if you or me potted a yella we'd go after the yella ones and finish with the black fer the win. With me?" Seamus said to Ron and Lee.

"So what about the blue square, who's potting that thing?" Lee frowned as he picked up the chalk.

The girls giggled and Lee turned his back on them, knowing he'd just embarrassed himself, and Seamus winked at the ladies and chalked the end of Ron's cue with the blue square.

"Helps ya direct yer balls where ya want 'em to go better." Seamus explained.

"I'll chalk your cue any time ya want, Irish," a busty girl with short brown hair called over at Seamus.

"Can I direct your balls anywhere in particular, gorgeous?" the blonde flirted with Ron as her friends giggled annoyingly.

Fergus paid for Lee's drink and another for himself and carried them over to the table.

"Ignore 'em, they're tanked and they'll start on somebody else if ye don't play along," he muttered.

"An' what if I want te play along?" Seamus said, sounding annoyed. "That one's practically crawling up me trouser leg like a rat up a drainpipe!"

"You old romantic, Shay," Tommy chuckled.

"So c'mon, who wants ta break?" Fergus said as he set his glass down and licked his lips.

"S-Seeing as I dunno wha-what that is, I'd say one of y-y-you," Ron suggested.

"Aw, Trisha," the blonde said to the girl with the dark hair Fergus had his eye on in an annoying type of voice, "he's all nervous around us pretty girls. Don't ya want give him a cuddle?"

"Don't!" Lee turned around sharply and snapped at the girls.

"Oooooh!" they all said together before bursting into fits of giggles.

"Bloody hell, we're not doing well with avoiding annoying bitches tonight, are we?" Lee huffed.

"Oi!" the dowdy woman protested.

"This isn't ignorin' them, Jordan."

"Oh, I'm getting this from the king of turning the other cheek just so he can punch it better!" Lee snorted. Ron sniggered and Seamus smirked.

"Oh, we're not startin' this again!" Fergus huffed.

"No, we're not…we're playing, or rather...you are!" Tommy said from his seat behind them.

"Oh, look at the big puppy dog eyes on that one. I didn't even see him!" one of the women called out on seeing Tommy.

"Oh great, now we're at a dog show," Lee huffed.

"Ya got that right!" Seamus said as he nodded his head towards the dowdy woman and Fergus snorted and tried to cover it up by rubbing his nose as if he'd sneezed.

"Bastard!" the short-haired woman Seamus had, up until that point been doing pretty well with, hissed at him and comforted the dowdy woman.

"Why are you assuming he was talking about me?" the dowdy woman asked in annoyance.

"Oh, come off it, Sandra," the blonde said, rolling her eyes, "he's hardly talking about _me _is he?"

Fergus marvelled at how spiteful women could be with their friends and yet remain friends.

"Are you lot using that table or not?" a big bloke with arms like logs said gruffly. "Only we've been waiting for this table all bloody night."

"S-S-Sorry," Ron apologised before turning to Fergus and Seamus. "Wwe can le-learn anoth-nother day."

"You heard him," the log-armed man's even burlier friend said as he stood alongside him. "P-p-p-piss off!"

The men both burst out laughing and most of the girls did, too. Lee was almost white with fury and Ron's ears blazed crimson with embarrassment. Tommy was up and out of his seat and standing between the men and his friends, like a toothpick trying to hold up a falling oak tree, and smiled at the men.

"Look, we're getting off the table and out of your way but there's no need for that alright?"

"No need for what? I'm allowed to do a Foghorn Leghorn impression in a public place, aren't I?" the man with the huge arms said sarcastically and his massive mate laughed into his larger.

Ron and Lee looked blankly at the men and didn't laugh, not knowing what on Earth was supposed to be funny, and the men took this to mean they had an attitude problem.

Tommy turned around just as the men were going to say something to Ron and Lee.

"I've got beer at home, in the fridge. Why don't we all go back to mine?" he asked nervously.

"Why don't we stay where the bloody hell we are?" Fergus said territorially as he fronted up to the two large Muggle men.

"F-Fer-Fer..." Ron pulled at Fergus' sleeve. "Don't."

"Oi! I wanted to watch the ones with the nice arses bend over the table!" the blonde called out petulantly.

"Yeah, wait ya turn?" the short-haired woman chirped in, changing allegiances every two second it seemed to Fergus.

"Calm it down or take it outsidem fellas," the barman called over to them and the two big Muggle men muttered under their breath and stepped away to lean against the bar.

Tommy sighed with relief and Seamus looked shocked and very cocky at having got away with the whole thing unscathed. Lee squeezed Ron's shoulder and gave him a smile. Ron leaned in towards Fergus and whispered to him.

"I'd really rather g-go to Tom's."

"Right, we're going," Lee said as he turned to grab their jackets.

"We're not gettin' chased outta here! We were here first!" Fergus said loud enough for everyone to hear him.

"Shhh!" Tommy hissed frantically.

"Fer-Fer-Fergus, I've had it for the night an-an' I wanna go," Ron said edgily.

Fergus looked Ron in the eye and nodded immediately.

"To Tom's then, yeah, whatever ya want, mate. I'm sorry abou' tha'."

"S'fine." Ron smiled with relief and set the cue down on the table and turned around to take his jacket from Lee.

That's when it happened. It was so slow to Fergus yet it whizzed by faster than a Snitch in the wind. Ron was leaning over the table and reaching for his jacket. The exotic girl, who hadn't said anything except to whisper to her dowdy friend when they'd first arrived, got to her feet and pressed her hips into Ron's arse and leaned over him. She pressed her breasts into his back and flattened him to the table, running her fingers through his hair and leaning in behind his ear to whisper seductively.

"I can make you speechless if you want…"

Nobody managed to move in time to stop it.

Ron bucked violently and spun around, swinging out his arm and cracking the woman across the side of the face with the back of his hand. She stumbled and her friends screamed. The two men lunged for Ron and Fergus and Seamus threw themselves at them before they could get their hands on him.

There was a lot of shouting and punching and screeching. Glass got broken and soon pavement met Fergus's face.

"Don't come back, none of you!" an angry voice shouted and one of the huge Muggles who had also been turfed out swung a kick into Seamus' ribs where he lay on the floor a few feet away.

"Where's the ginger bastard who smacked the bird?" the other man demanded.

"All of you piss off or I'll call the rozzers!" the angry voice from the pub warned.

The Muggles took off pretty fast and Fergus crawled over to his cousin.

"Shite," he winced as he saw Seamus' bloodied nose, "they mashed yeh up good an' proper, Shay."

Seamus coughed and gripped his sore ribs before nodding towards a darkened alleyway.

"Go see if he's okay. He ran down there, they didn't see 'im."

Fergus got to his feet and staggered over to the alley. He could hear a familiar sound and grimaced in preparation for what he was about to see. Sure enough, Ron was on his hands and knees on the floor puking his guts out and shaking uncontrollably. Lee was leaning against the opposite wall in a squatting position with his hand over his mouth and jabbering various expletives into it. Tommy was beside Ron, not knowing where to put his hands but knowing well enough not to put them anywhere on Ron.

"It's all okay now. Nobody's touching you, nobody's gonna touch you. They're all gone. They've all gone away," Tommy was repeating in a soothing mantra while Ron heaved once more and expelled the last of his stomach contents against the wall.

Fergus thought Tommy was doing pretty well and glanced over his shoulder to see Seamus struggling back to his feet. He looked back down the alley at Lee and realised that his eyes had glazed over.

"Lee?" he called out, voice echoing down the alleyway.

"I didn't do anything," Lee whimpered. "I just let it happen. Just like the last time. I didn't stop it."

"Lee, c'mon now," Fergus swayed towards Lee just as Seamus reached the end of the alley.

"D'we need an ambulance?" he called after him.

"Nah," Fergus shook his head and crouched beside Lee, "doesn't look like they got their hands on 'em. Hey Lee, he's okay, ye know? Just...just the table thing wasn't it? He'll be alright again in a minute."

Ron coughed and spat bile from his mouth and Tommy offered him a tissue.

"It's just us here now, Ron," Tommy said kindly.

"He had him over the table and I didn't do anything!" Lee whimpered.

"She," Seamus corrected, "she was way too forward but it didn't...that all got way outta hand. Don't upset yerself, Lee."

"S'not about her, Shay," Fergus said as he put his arms around Lee and gave him a bracing one armed hug. "I stirred up the aggro, Jordan, I'm sorry. Just let it go and we'll get yeh both home, okay?"

Ron suddenly shook his head vigorously and sprung to his feet.

"N-n-n-no! 'M n-n-not goin' home!"

He rubbed his unsteady hand over his sweaty face and leaned against the wall as Tommy stood up beside him.

"Wherever you want to go, we'll get you there, okay?" Tommy reassured him.

"Leamme alone," Ron jerked as if one of them had touched him and pushed past Seamus to stride back to the street.

"Ron, wait up!" Seamus called as he tried to follow him.

"Where ya goin'" Fergus shouted.

"I have to g-g-go," Ron muttered as he stepped out onto the street, folded his arms across his chest and set off out of sight.

"Shit!" Fergus swore as he realised Lee hadn't even noticed Ron leaving and was in no state to be left alone himself.

"I'll go," Tommy said as he ran after Ron. "Take Lee home and get his mum to heal you both. I'll make sure Ron's okay," he shouted over his shoulder to them before sprinting out of sight.

"Welcome to my world, Shay," Fergus said to his bloodied cousin sadly.


	7. Forcing It

**Forcing It**

"Hermione, Hermione dear," her mother was shaking her awake very gently. "Hermione, Ronald's here and he's very upset. He's asking for you."

Hermione sat bolt upright and threw off the bedcovers.

"Where is he? How long has he been here?"

She was pulling on her dressing gown and stepping into her slippers, on the wrong feet, before her mother could even respond. She ran down the stairs and into the living room and saw him hugging his arms to himself and pacing up and down, chewing on his thumbnail and shaking all over. As soon as he saw her he stopped and let both arms drop to his sides, shaking his head hopelessly, and spoke with a kind of whimper.

"I di-didn-didn't know where else to g-go!"

Hermione opened her arms out wide and stood on the spot.

"Come here."

Ron crossed the room in two strides and threw himself into her body, hiding his face in her hair and wrapping his long arms around her tightly, and she slowly curled her arms around him and held him gently. He was shaking worse than ever now and had started to cry but she knew it was what he needed so she didn't try to comfort him or calm him down; she just stood there with him for as long as he needed her.

"I ca-can't b-be around pe-peopl-ple. I can't do it!"

"You don't have to do anything. You decide what you do." Hermione said as she rocked from foot to foot on the spot. "You decide everything."

"I can't...I can't...I _hurt_ people!" Ron choked on his own devastation.

"You haven't hurt anybody, Ron," Hermione soothed him with a kiss through his hair onto the side of his face.

"I hit her!" he gasped and sobbed into her shoulder.

Hermione had seen Ron at his worst through his recovery but this really stunned her. She had never seen him crying so openly and completely.

"Who?" she asked, for want of anything else to say.

"I k-killed somebody. I'm a...I'm a murderer."

"No, I saw it in the memory you gave to the court and I saw you defending yourself and surviving."

"She just wanted to flirt with me and I hi-hit her," Ron babbled. "I thought it was him."

"Wait, what are you talking about? You're jumping from one conversation to another and I'm not in either of them, Ron."

Ron sniffed and wiped his eyes against the shoulder of Hermione's dressing gown. She steered them both over to the sofa and eased them down, Ron's face still hidden in her hair, breath warming the side of her neck, and she waited for him to calm down enough to respond.

He was breathing raggedly, as if he'd run all the way to her house carrying a troll on his back, and his fists were gripping handfuls of her shabby peach dressing gown as if he wanted to make sure she couldn't pull away and see him properly. He was hiding within her comforting hug and he wasn't ready to come out just yet.

"Sh-She was...I hi-I hit-I hit..."

"Take a breath," Hermione ordered tried to steady his nerves with a closer hug.

"Hitawoman!" Ron blurted as his whole body slumped into her heavily and his shakes worsened.

"Okay," Hermione said calmly, "how did that happen?"

"Shewa-She...Shwas touchin' me!" Ron shuddered.

"Tell me," Hermione said as she lightly stroked Ron's hair for the first time in ages, this was the longest he'd ever allowed her to hold him and she was determined to make her touch feel as reassuring as possible.

"Seam-Seamu-mus-Seamus was techin'us...sho-showin'us how t-to pl-pl-pl-play p-p-p..."

"Dutch Ron, speak Dutch for a minute!" Hermione interrupted, worried at how much worse his stutter was getting.

The Healers had told her at times like this Ron was at risk of hyperventilation or stress-induced seizures because of his head injuries and she wasn't going to let things get any worse for him than they already were.

"_Ze kwam uit het niets en drukte zich tegen mijn rug_," Ron said quickly."_Ik boog over de tafel en ze zal overal aan me_."

Ron's shoulders shook and Hermione could hear his stifled whimper before continuing.

"_Het was net als hij_!"

"Don't tear yourself up, just let it all go in your own time, I'll still be here." Hermione said as she planted another kiss through his hair.

Ron lifted his head and looked her in the eye with his bloodshot ones, eyelashes darkened by tears and face flushed with embarrassment and emotion.

"Ki-Kissme properly," Ron said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione blinked.

"I w-wanya t'kissme!" he blurted so fast she could barely understand him.

"Are you sure?" Hermione said, eyeing him warily.

Ron nodded his head emphatically. Hermione leaned in and brushed her lips against his before leaning back again and smiling.

"There."

"Properl-ly," Ron said with a full body shudder.

"Ron, I don't think..."

"_Please_!" he begged her. "Just ki-kiss me like I'm normal."

Hermione felt her heart ache and cupped his face with one hand before leaning in a little way and tilting her head to one side. Ron's eyes closed and he parted his lips just a little. His breathing picked up speed, his full body tremors grew worse and he was half pulling her towards him and half pushing her away as he waited for her to kiss him.

He was waiting for her to kiss him.

"Ron," Hermione said softly.

"Uh?" he replied, eyes still closed.

"Meet me half way."

His eyes opened and he blinked at her.

"Huh?" he panted.

"I'll move forward this far," Hermione leaned in and licked her lips before continuing, "and you move in and meet me half way. You kiss me as well, Ron."

Ron swallowed and looked terrified. He gripped the back of her dressing gown even tighter and leaned forward ever so slightly before jerking back and letting her go, running shaking hands through his hair and hissing disjointed swear words at himself.

"I'm not going to force a kiss on you, Ron, not before you're ready, not ever." Hermione said sternly.

"But how am I supp-p-pposeda be ready if I never get used to being t-t-touched?" Ron growled into his trembling hands.

"You can't make yourself get over this, Ron."

"But I wanna," Ron yelped like a dog who'd just had his tail trodden on. "I wanna ki-kiss you!"

"Why didn't you?" Hermione asked, throat knotting up inside.

"'Cause he...you're...it's dirty!" Ron said as he slumped over, elbows resting on knees and head supported in his hands. "As soon as she touched me...I felt sick."

"Where did she touch you, Ron?" Hermione said, voice hoarse.

"M-My back," Ron pointed over his shoulder and avoided eye contact, "'n she pu-pushed me into the table, pushed aga-gainst my arse."

Hermione felt angry for the first time since Ron had arrived.

"Was she trying it on? Flirting?"

Ron shook his head.

"Her fr-friends were but...but she was...didn't even see her. 'N she..." Ron shuddered, closed his eyes and waved his hand over his right shoulder, "...he was...they were in my face an-and I hi-hi-hit'em."

Hermione finally understood. She shuffled closer along the edge of the sofa and opened her arms to him again.

"Let me hold you again."

Ron tipped himself sideways into her arms and she let her hair fall forward to hide him like a fuzzy, brown veil. She whispered how much she loved him and how long she was prepared to wait for him. He didn't say a word, just clung to her as his breathing slowed and deepened, and so he wasn't shaking as badly as before.

"I know you just want to smash down all those walls you had to build around you to stay sane but I won't force you, Ron. I'm not going to kiss you while you just sit back and take it and I'm not going to push myself into you and wear you down with physical contact."

Ron tightened his grip around her waist and didn't say a word.

"I want you to enjoy being intimate with me. I want you to get the same thrill out of touching me as I do from touching you. I will _not_ kiss you while you tense up and get upset about it. I _won't_ push my tongue down your throat so you have to kiss me back. I am _never_ going to be able to make you feel better, I can help you but I can't...I won't ever _make_ you."

There was a long silence before Ron settled down on the sofa in a foetal position and laid his head upon her lap, face buried into her stomach, and his voice rumbled against her body like a purring cat.

"Can we stay here tonight?" he asked as he shifted into a comfortable position. "St-Stay like this 'till morning?"

Hermione stroked his hair and nodded, unseen to Ron's closed eyes and hidden face.

"We can stay like this forever, Ron."

* * *

The room was bright, but slightly chilly. There was a blanket draped over the two of them. Ron's head was heavy on her lap and he snored softly into her body. Hermione had slumped over against the armrest a little in her sleep and there was a note stuck on the coffee table in her father's handwriting.

_Your mother sent word to Ron's parents that he was here and he was safe. We don't want to spook him, so we'll stay out of the way in the morning. There's plenty of food and milk in the fridge._

_Please try to get him some professional help, sweetheart. I know you want to be the one to help him but this is too much for the both of you to handle alone. _

_Dad._

Hermione scrunched up the paper and threw it into the waste paper basket. The movement caused Ron to stir in her lap. She looked down at his peaceful face and sighed.

"Thank you for coming to me," she whispered to him.

"Mmm?" Ron's eyebrows crinkled and his long freckled nose scrunched up.

"Morning, darling," she chuckled softly to herself.

Ron's eyelids fluttered before opening and he squinted up at her. He looked a little bewildered for a fraction of a second before groaning and wincing as he turned his head back into her body.

"Oh no!"

"It's alright, my parents didn't mind."

"No, no, no!" Ron murmured into her belly so deeply that it tickled.

Hermione giggled and Ron peeped back up at her with a resigned sigh.

"I lo-lost it good and proper, didn't I?"

"You held yourself together admirably, Ron."

"Admirable?" Ron exclaimed as he sat up and ran his hands through his scruffy hair. "I smacked a girl and then showed up he-here drunk and crying...on your mother!"

Hermione laughed again.

"It's not funny!" Ron huffed as he swivelled on the sofa to set his legs on the floor and scan the room for signs of damage.

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing because I'm happy." Hermione beamed.

"Ha-Happy about what?" Ron frowned.

"I was happy that you chose me to talk to last night and I was happy that you trusted me enough to sleep with me and I'm happy that...well, that it seemed to make you feel better to let some of that go for once."

Ron rubbed his temples tiredly.

"You're happy I completely humiliated myself?"

She put her hand upon his knee and ducked her head to force his gaze to meet hers.

"You trusted me enough to fall apart, Ron. I love you for that. I love you."

"You love me in pieces?" Ron snorted lazily.

"I love every single piece of you," Hermione said with proud contentment.

Ron turned his head to look at her and blinked. She smiled at him. He leaned towards her and tilted his head to one side. His lips parted and his eyes began to close. Hermione gasped and his hand settled upon her thigh and slid slowly up as he moved closer.

"I said no forcing it, remember?" Hermione spoke into Ron's warm morning breath.

"I'm meeting you half way," he whispered against her mouth.

Hermione angled her head and pressed her lips against his. Just lips gently pushing together, no tongues, no movement, just contact and then withdrawal. Ron let out an awed breath and shivered.

"Wow!"

"Uh-huh," Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I probably should've b-brushed my teeth before I did that," he said earnestly.

Hermione giggled and hugged him, head resting upon his chest, and she felt his arm around her back.

"So looks li-like I'm gonna be oka-kay now then, huh?" Ron said with relief.

Hermione felt her happiness leave her. She bowed her head, still pressing it against his chest, and sighed.

"So nothing's going to happen the next time somebody grabs you from behind then?" she asked quietly. "And what about when you hear the word Firebrand?"

Ron drew in a sharp breath and his whole body went rigid.

"Don't."

"I'm sorry," she whispered and wove her fingers between those of his free hand, "but you can't get over everything overnight, Ron."

"I could, you don't know I couldn't." Ron said with childish defiance.

Hermione released Ron's hand and settled it back on his knee before slowly easing it up his thigh towards his groin. Ron's heart thudded against his chest and his breathing became shallow.

"You're okay with me touching you like this then?" she said, hating herself for having to do this to him to prove her point.

"S'fine," Ron forced himself to say between short panicky breaths.

"What if I sat in your lap? What if I sat in your lap facing you and started whispering into your ear?"

Ron's squirmed beneath her.

"Don't," he begged her pathetically.

"I'm not going to," Hermione said as she put some space between them. "I was just letting you see. Starting to climb a hill doesn't mean you're practically over it."

"Why the fuck didn't I take the Ministry up on the memory modification?" Ron snapped as he jumped up from the sofa and started chewing on his thumbnail again.

"You wanted to remember everybody who died for you all," Hermione said proudly. "That was what you said, wasn't it? You said you wanted to remember your friend Cormac McLagglen and your friend Auror Maccario, didn't you?"

"Can't..." Ron waved his hand over his right shoulder hopelessly, "Can't they just take...? Why isn't there a sp-spell or a potion or...? Why can't Mum just flick her wand at me and make everything better again like before?"

Hermione got to her feet and held out her hand to him.

"Come and sit back down with me, Ron."

Ron sighed deeply and sank down to sit on the edge of the coffee table. Hermione sat opposite him on the sofa.

"I know of somebody who can make it easier for you, not as fast as you'd like but it's better than nothing, right?"

"S-Somebody who? How do you know them?" Ron frowned.

"It's a specialist Healer for problems like yo-"

"No way!" Ron sprung to his feet again and Hermione was up again just as fast.

"Sit down, Ron. Sit and talk to me. It's still just me and you and we can talk without anybody pushing you into anything, can't we?"

Ron's shoulders fell and he sat back down again, so hard Hermione guessed his buttocks would be bruised, and he worried his hands in front of himself. Hermione sat down yet again.

"Remember how you felt about the speech therapy? That ended up helping you, didn't it?"

"I hated it," Ron mumbled as he looked at his feet.

"You did?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Just...made me feel useless. What kind of n-nutjob can't even talk properly jus-just 'cause they got scared? It didn't hap-happen to any of the others."

"The others didn't get sexually molested, Ron," Hermione said, devastated that Ron took his trauma to be a sign of weakness. "The others weren't tricked into killing someone. The others didn't get singled out and tortured for hours on end and..."

"They all got buried alive!" Ron snapped his head up and stared at her with those piercing blue eyes.

"And you dug them all up with your hands only to be accused of being a Polyjuiced Death Eater by the only person who was keeping you sane!" Hermione said fiercely.

"Lee thought he saw me dead, it wasn't hi-his fa-fa-fault!" Ron said angrily.

"And you had extenuating circumstances, too, so why is Lee given slack and you're not?" Hermione demanded angrily.

"Because...'Cause they...They're...They were gonna be..." Ron seemed to give up trying to understand his own head and set upon his stump of a thumbnail again with his teeth.

Hermione knocked his hand away from his mouth and took it with both of hers.

"How about we move towards you seeing a Healer slowly, then? What if you talked to me until you felt like talking to a stranger instead and then..."

"I couldn't tell a stranger what I did…they wouldn't understand…they'd just lock me up."

"They wouldn't, I guarantee you they wouldn't."

Ron lifted his head and stared at her.

"What can a Healer do for me that you can't?"

Hermione felt her heart ache as she realised that she couldn't be the person Ron needed her to be.

"A Healer, a stranger, wouldn't be distracted by wanting to kiss you," she said apologetically, "And you wouldn't try to get out of confronting things by asking a Healer to hold you down and kiss you so you could trick yourself into feeling normal for a second or two."

"Can't I just...go off somewhere by myself and wait until it all fades away?"

Hermione sat with him in silence for five minutes before realising that the option of Madame Boo and her Healing techniques had to be something Ron asked her to set up for him rather than she asked him to do for her. What Ron needed to do first, before he considered anything else, was to open that box he'd stuffed all his pain into and organise the contents a little better so the box wasn't bursting at the seams any more.

"Ron," she spoke up at long last and waited for him to look at her before continuing, "tell me about what happened when you were tied down to the table in the torture room."

Ron visibly squirmed before her.

"You kno-know what happened. You sa-sa-saw."

"I watched your memory and Lee's memory along with everybody else at the trial of those Death Eaters and I saw every single thing he did to you both," Hermione said, fury boiling within her. "But you felt it, Ron, you lived it and you've never talked about it with anyone."

"W-What's to talk about? Everybody saw, everybody knows, you all w-watched it. Wasn't that humiliating enough?" Ron hugged his arms to himself as he spoke.

"We all knew what happened to Harry when he last Sirius, when Cedric died, but we made him talk to us about it anyway. You need to tell me what happened. Forget that I saw it, it doesn't matter that I saw it, just tell me how it was for you. You didn't see it, Ron...you felt it. For you it was real."

Ron loosened his folded arms and rubbed his hand down one of them to rub around his bony wrist.

"He chained my arms together under the table," Ron said in barely a whisper. "I was bent flat over the side of the table like I was presenting to him...like a fuckin' dog or som-something."

"I can't imagine being stuck in that position unable to get out of it."

"I think...I think I held it together okay up until he forced my legs apart and fixed them to the table legs," Ron said as if he was back there, looking himself in the eye and reading his mind as it was that day. "There's silly little details I keep thinking of too like...a burn on the table a few inches away from my face and how it smelled of tobacco."

"Maybe somebody cleaned their pipe out on that table?" Hermione suggested with a small smile of encouragement.

"Maybe," Ron nodded, "never s-saw anyone smoking the whole time I was in there bu-but maybe, when they were relaxing." Ron laughed bitterly. "Imagine that, relaxing between murders with your mates around the table."

"Strange to think of the Death Eaters as people, isn't it?" Hermione said faintly.

Ron nodded.

"Lee kept threatening him and I knew he'd play us off against each other but I couldn't get him to stop. I couldn't get Lee to listen to me. Still can't."

Hermione smiled sadly.

"I was trying to tell him but the Puppet Bastard started touching me with his wand and then he ripped off my t-shirt and neither of us could think straight." Ron rubbed at his face before continuing. "I was-wasn't even thinking about what if he does it...I was waiting f-for him to start. He was gonna...gonna... It was gonna happen and Lee was gonna wa-watch."

"That must have been terrifying," Hermione spoke just for the sake of reminding Ron he was with her and not back in that room.

"I wondered if it would hurt more if he did it fa-fast or slow. Lee was shouting for help and I was trying to...warn my body to expect something bad. I was willing all my nerves to stop feeling. I was willing myself nu-numb."

"Did it work?"

He shook his head.

"Lee wouldn't stop shouting at him and I was spread out waiting for him and I didn't want him to be angry when he did it because...It had to hurt more. I was trying to get Lee to stop, but the fucker gagged me and my whole mouth suddenly tasted of his foul hand. It was leather but it tasted of him, it felt like him, it was warm, like his fu-fucking hand."

"You're in my house, remember?" Hermione whispered nervously. "You're with me and you're safe and he can't touch you. He isn't touching you."

"I felt his hands dragging down my back and I tried to squirm out from under him but he was sneering into the side of my face and stroking me and I could feel everything. I co-could feel his breath and his hands and the hairs of his eyelashes on my cheek."

"He didn't get to go any further though did he, Ron?" Hermione said, needing to inject that ray of light back into Ron's mind.

"If it we-weren't for a bloody mouse, he'd have..." Ron swallowed against his dry throat. "He was pushing his hands under me and grabbing for my...f'my..." Ron's breathing grew shallow and he supported his head in his hands.

"Okay, that's enough for now. Let me get you a glass of water or something." Hermione got to her feet anxiously and wondered if she'd done more harm than good.

"Hermione," Ron looked up at her and blinked, "that mouse saved my life."

"I know," she nodded.

"Is it stupid that I feel bad for leaving it there? Leaving it behind in Holland?"

"No, Ron, it's not stupid at all."

"'Cause a cat could've eaten it," Ron said thoughtfully. "Imagine that, the reason I'm still alive, the thing that means I'm sitting here talking to you, could've been eaten by a cat."

"Life can be strange like that," Hermione conceded with a nod.

"'S cruel," Ron said sadly, "'S cruel is what it is. A cat didn't eat Pettigrew and yet...where's my little Shocolate mouse right now, eh? Probably dead."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Ron," Hermione smiled. "I think she's probably out there saving somebody else now. I think she could be such a powerful Patronus that she became solid and unstoppable. Don't you worry about her."

Ron smiled and hugged a cushion to himself while she went through to the kitchen to get his water. When she came back he was sleeping once again. She set the water down, perched herself on the arm of the sofa, and burst into tears.

* * *

_A/N Several of you have asked so I'll just clear things up._

_Ron and Hermione weren't boyfriend and girlfriend before Ron was taken hostage but they had had sex._

_In Within These Walls Hermione, Ginny and Molly perform a locator spell using memories of Ron and Hermione visualised losing her virginity to Ron and worried about Molly seeing it._

_This is why Ron has seen Hermione naked before._

_I hope you enjoyed a whole chapter of just the two of them._

_See ya in two days!_


	8. If I Were a Painter

**If I Were a Painter**

He'd lost him.

On top of everything else that made him ineffectual, he had lost Ron almost as soon as he'd gone after him. When he went to The Burrow to see if he could work out where he was from the Weasley family clock, everybody was up and sitting round the table drinking tea. Ron's mum had guessed why he was there and told him word had come from the Grangers and that Ron had shown up there in a state and he was going to spend the night on their sofa until he calmed down.

Harry and Charlie had questioned him about what had happened and then Charlie had offered him a Firewhisky but all Tommy wanted to do was go home and rest up for another busy day of being useless.

He hated sleep. He'd heard about the many awful things happening to the others while he was sleeping. He managed to sleep through being buried alive. He slept through Lee going into shock and convincing himself Ron was an impostor and the real Ron had drowned.

Tommy sometimes lay in bed and heard Auror Maccario's voice bellowing out his last words from the courtyard he had been executed.

_I am not afraid of you!_

He had a future, a fiancée, he was brave and selfless and strong. He was dead and Tommy wasn't.

"_you're a bloody hypocrite if you do this, you have your little speech and your cup of potion and that sick little execution ritual of yours and now you want to throw all that out the window and drag a sick man to die. Where's the honour in that?"_

Ron's voice of defiance and protection, at the time it had scared Tommy as well as moved him. He had made a friend who would stand before the men sent to drag him to his death and tell them '_not today you don't_'

"_Jij, haal Peakes."_

Tommy closed his eyes and tried not to think of Jimmy being taken away in his place. Ron was begging for them to take him instead. Fergus was fighting the Death Eaters to try to keep Jimmy out of their clutches but they were all too weak from hunger and easily overpowered.

_"Get yer mits offa him yer son of a hag. He's only seventeen fer fuck's sake."_

Then Davies was being cursed and forced out of the cell with Jimmy. Two people were going to die for Tommy and the cell block was screaming and bellowing and Ron was barganing with the Puppet Master. All Tommy could think was '_Let me die, just put them back and let me die. Let me do something worthwhile to help them'_.

He was no good to anyone in those cells and as far as Lee was concerned, he wasn't of any help to them on the outside world...an outsider himself. He had one thing going for him, though. He had a healthy relationship with his mother. They took care of each other and they understood each other. His mum felt guilty about all the friends she had made who lost their loved ones. She told Tommy about the Thomases and the Creeveys and they both talked about Chiara, Auror Macario's finacee. His mother spoke of her as a friend and Tommy spoke of her as a ray of hope and love that lit up their cells one day.

She was an outsider because she didn't lose her boy, her boy wasn't tortured, her boy wasn't put through hell in that mansion with its attic of cruelty. Tommy was an outsider for the same reasons, he wasn't a part of it all, he was there but he wasn't at the same time.

The telephone rang and Tommy let it trill out before wondering why it hadn't been answered yet, where his mother was, before jogging down the stairs and lifting the receiver from its cradle.

"8683?" he said by way of greeting, it's how everybody in the family answered the telephone, reciting the last four numbers dialed for no fathomable reason at all.

"_Could I speak to Julie please?"_ a crackly male voice asked.

Tommy was immediately suspicious. Why was a strange man ringing his mother?

"Um...she's out, can I take a message?"

"_Oh well I was just calling about the ad in the Post this week. She wants to sell her upright piano, I was just wondering if I could come round and have a look at it to see what kind of condition it's in."_

Tommy blinked.

"She's selling the piano?"

"_I'm sorry?_"

"Why is she selling the piano?" Tommy said, more to himself than anyone else.

"_I really don't know. Um, maybe I'll try again later. Sorry, goodbye._"

The phone clicked and Tommy was left listening to a dial tone for a long agonising minute before replacing it. He looked around the quiet house and then called out.

"Mum?"

Nothing.

"Mum, you here?"

Still nothing.

Tommy marched into the living room and opened the drop down door of the drinks cabinet. They'd never kept drinks in it as far back as Tommy could remember. It was their storage space for papers they needed to keep and receipts and bills and the like. Tommy picked up an opened envelope and pulled out the letter inside. The ink was red and it warned of a suspension of services unless the amount owed was paid in full immediately.

Tommy grabbed another bill and saw more red letters. They were behind in their rent by a considerable amount. Tommy opened more and more letters until he found a letter from one of his uncles.

_Julie girl,_

_I know you got behind while you were in Holland and now Tom's in that magic hospital place so I thought I'd send you a check to help you out until you're both back on your feet._

_Call if you need more._

_Andrew._

Tommy saw the check was untouched, his mother hadn't cashed it, and he wasn't the least surprised. He glanced over to the piano beside the window and sighed. Neither of them could play it. It was his fathers, but he still felt a sense of betrayal at the prospect of it being sold.

It was more than that. It was the fact that a price was to be put on it at all. People were going to look it over and haggle the price down because it had chipped varnish and a stiff pedal and it was ever so slightly out of tune. It was going to be look at like an object, a thing to be owned, and it wasn't. It was part of his home, part of his family, and he knew his mother felt the same way about it too.

How could she sell it?

Tommy sat down on the stool before the piano and ran his fingers along the lid fondly. She'd got into debt because she'd been in Holland, then at the hospital, and it was all because of him. She was going to sell the piano because her perspective had changed and what was a piano when you had your loved one safe and well and with you?

Tommy sighed sadly. He wasn't going to be able to hurt her feelings by complaining about the sale of the piano. He wasn't about to embarrass her by letting her know he'd found out about the final demands. He was going to be strong for her in the same way she was being for him. He'd not suffered trauma like the others. Why was he still living a life of recovery?

He'd get out there and get a job to pay his way. He'd probably never get employed in the Wizarding world right now but how hard would it be to get a job in the Muggle world? He was Muggle-born after all, he understood the money, and most menial tasks didn't require a Muggle education.

He nodded to himself and grabbed the paper from the rack beside the television, flicking to the recruitment section.

* * *

"Well, isn't this nice?" Molly beamed at the women as she sat back in her chair and watched the waiter set down their pot of tea and china cups.

"Very mumsie of us, yes," Floella nodded with a curl of the lip.

"Proper china's nothin' to get snarky about Floella, especially when half of mine's been broken."

"Butterfingers?" Julie asked the tired looking, Irish woman.

"No," Marie shook her head and shrugged nonchalantly, "me and Fergus like to throw crockery when we're in a temper from time te time. I think there may be some Greek in us."

Floella chuckled and watched as Molly poured for everyone.

"Ahh see," she teased the red-haired woman, "Molly's even playing mother with us. This is supposed to be a break for you, girl."

Molly flushed in the face and smiled bashfully.

"Well, never having been waited upon, I'm really not comfortable with it. I like to keep busy."

"Learn teh put yer feet up, Mol," Marie said, kicking off her shoes and waggling her toes with a groan of pleasure. "It's rare me corns get any sun, ye know?"

Julie laughed loudly and Marie looked very pleased with herself.

"So, as the only one of us with a husband, are ye gettin' yer end away still, Molly?"

"Marie!" Molly gasped, dropping three sugar cubes into her tea by mistake.

Julie chuckled and felt thankful that she wasn't at any risk of being dragged into any kind of sex talk. Molly was almost beetroot in the cheeks as she mopped up the spatters of tea from the table cloth and Floella tugged the napkin away from her with a tut and a roll of the eyes.

"It's _their_ job to clean up after _you_. That's why we're paying so much money for nothing but tea, girl!" Floella aid with a shake of the head.

Molly wasn't having it though. She pulled out her wand and Scourgified the spillage discreetly. They were in a posh Muggle place and Marie slapped the back of Molly's hand as if she was a child reaching for a biscuit before dinner.

"Bad girl, Molly Weasley!" she chided with a grin.

"Oh, nobody saw," Molly said as she made sure her wand was tucked away safely in her bag.

"I did!" Julie said chirpily. "And I'm an easily-shocked Muggle, didn't anybody tell you?"

"Well, it's nice to get away from being ganged up on and made the butt of jokes at home to come out with my friends and receive the same treatment!" Molly muttered with a rueful smile.

"Ahhh, ye hear tha girls?" Marie said as she leaned over and gave Molly a one-armed hug. "Molly thinks we're like family!"

"Like _my_ family," Molly clarified, "and I'm sure you all know by now that's not a complement!"

All four women laughed.

"Ah, Molly, your Ron's speech is so much better these days. He was so clear when I spoke to him the other day," Floella said as the laughter faded into smiles.

"Yes," Molly nodded proudly, "he's been working so hard."

"And Charlie is still at home?" Julie asked, feeling a pang of envy at Molly and her full house.

"He won't go back to work until things settle down at home," Molly sighed. "I've tried talking to him about...well, what he did, but he only wants to talk to Ronnie about it."

"Oh, Molly, my love," Marie frowned, "that's not fair on the lad. He has so much to carry already."

"He knows. He's waiting for things to get better and then he's going to..." Molly stared off into space for a moment before blinking and shaking her head to clear it. "I don't know what he wants to say but he's staying until he gets to say it. I can't say I'm not happy about it. He's usually away from home for so long."

"Maybe he could talk to Lee for me, get him to embrace staying at home for a day or two."

"Could we get the bill, please?" Julie asked the waiter with a smile.

Soon enough, a small silver dish was set down with a piece of paper and four small chocolate mints set upon it. Molly was mightily impressed by such a treat and put hers into her handbag to show the family when she got home. Marie wolfed hers down in one and Floella told Molly to take hers and give it to Lee. '_You'll being seeing him before I do I'm sure,_' she'd told Molly. Julie pulled out two notes from her purse and set them down on top of the bill, weighted down by the one remaining mint so it didn't blow away in the breeze.

Very quickly, the waiter was back to whisk away the dish and leave them to enjoy the last drop of tea from the pot, Molly pouring as always.

"I would suggest Ron go to your house one night to keep Lee company but then...well then, I know Harry would be at a loss. He does pine, you know? Never had a friend like Ron before, you see, and he doesn't know what to do with himself at our house when Ron's not there."

"But he's still courtin' yeh girl, Ginny, isn't he?" Marie frowned.

"Oh, yes but, I don't know, they've become quite lukewarm with each other since Ronnie came home."

"It could be the same problem, Molly," Julie suggested. "Lee pines for Ron and can't concentrate on anything else. Ron's pining for Hermione but he can't be with her in his state. Harry's pining for Ron and neglecting your Ginny who's pining for Harry!"

"Oh all that pine!" Marie groaned. "You could start a forest fire with that much kindling."

Molly sighed and chortled and Floella began to pull her shawl, a summery coloured wrap, around her shoulders. Julie put her purse back into her bag and zipped it up before looking up to see if the others were ready to go. Molly glanced over to the waiter who was inside, chatting to one of the waitresses.

"He's still not back with your change, Julie?"

"What?" Julie blinked. "Oh no, places like this tend to assume the change is their tip and leave us to go. He was a nice enough fella though; I don't begrudge him a little something."

Marie and Molly stared at her blankly. Floella pulled her own purse out of her handbag and opened it, looking to Julie expectantly.

"Oh no, it's on me," Julie smiled. "Put it away."

"Are you sure, girl? I have Muggle money that just sits in my purse for months these days. Let me go halves with you."

"No, no, I insist." Julie said as she put her hands in her lap under the table so no money could be placed into them.

"Okay, then," Floella said as she closed her purse once more, "my treat next time though, yes?"

"Oh yes. I'll have a cream cake then!" Julie teased.

Floella laughed and shoved Julie gently. Molly was still glancing at the waiter and waving every now and then to catch his attention.

"He's not coming back with your change, Julie," she said worriedly. "What was it you said you had to pay for as well?"

"Yeah," Marie said with a frown. "We only had a pot'o tea between us. I know it's overpriced here but not that much."

"He kept the change as a tip." Julie smiled and pushed her chair away from the table, ready to stand.

Again, Marie and Molly simply stared at her. Floella leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"The Wizarding world don't have tipping, Julie."

"Oh really?" Julie blinked. "Sorry, I didn't realise. Well, it's a little bit extra you give to the person who served you."

Marie's frown deepened.

"Fer what?"

"For...serving you." Julie explained simply.

"He doesn't already get paid fer than?" Marie asked.

"No, he does. He gets his weekly wage but the customer can give him a little extra for good service."

"You didn't give it to him though, Julie," Molly said as if worried that Julie hadn't noticed something very unreasonable had just happened to her. "He just took it without asking. He kept your money."

"So, he's assuming his service was so good it was worth all yer change, is that right?" Marie said, now glaring at the waiter through the window.

"No! Not at all, it's just the way Muggles do things. I mean it's not even so bad here. If you go to America, you're expected to tip a certain percentage no matter what the service was like!"

"What?" Marie exclaimed.

"Well, if the service is poor you can refuse to tip at all Julie," Floella conceded before turning to Molly and Marie. "But it is the generally accepted thing to do over there. Like saying please and thank you is to us here."

"But..." Molly was still confused, "but he's being paid by the owner of the tearoom, yes?"

"Yes," Julie nodded.

"He's being paid to serve us tea?" Molly went on.

"Yes," she confirmed once again.

"So why are you tipping him for serving us tea if he's already been paid to do it by the owner?" Molly asked, looking totally lost.

"It's like a bonus for him being friendly and polite and not keeping us waiting," Julie explained with a smile.

"He should do that anyway!" Marie exclaimed loudly.

"That's what I thought," Molly frowned.

"Yeh lettin' him keep yer money without askin' fer doin the job he's already bin paid teh do?" Marie said for her own clarification.

"Well, when you say it like that..." Floella said as she too frowned and looked over her shoulder at the waiter who now seemed to notice the table full of women hadn't departed and were in fact scowling at him.

"It's alright, girls," Julie said in a placatory fashion, "I don't mind. He was very nice."

"Bollix was he!" Marie swore and waved her hand to beckon him back to the table now she had his attention.

"But..." Julie said, feeling herself cringing with embarrassment as other patrons of the tearoom stopped chatting to watch.

"He didn't even pour, Julie. I did," Molly said, still not quite understanding why Muggles helped themselves to money they hadn't earned and didn't deserve.

"Well, we did say to let him do it," Floella said reasonably.

"But he was gone," Marie countered. "He put the pot down and scarpered. Yes you, c'mere!" Marie snapped as the waiter gingerly approached the table.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" he asked timidly.

"I'm really sorry about this but..." Julie began before Marie cut her off.

"Yes, there is. Yeh didn't bring my friend her change. Why is that?"

"Oh," he said, startled, "I'm sorry I just assumed...I'll go and get it now." The man turned to leave, but was stopped by Marie's voice.

"And who are you to assume?" Marie said as she got to her feet.

"I am very sorry, madam. I'll get your change now."

"No, you get back here and tell me what yeh did fer us that was so bloody good ye assumed you could keep her change without askin'," Marie said with a raised voice.

The man mouthed silently and waved his hand around as if he was literally grasping at straws.

"What kinda place is this that you charge us through the nose fer a simple pot o'tea and then help yerself teh our money as reward fer showing common courtesy?"

"I'll get your change right now, madam, and I am very, very sorry," the man said before practically running away.

Once he'd gone, Floella frowned at Marie and beckoned her closer to hiss something for only the four of them to hear.

"Hold on…you were married to a Muggle. You know all about tipping."

Marie winked mischievously and waggled her eyebrows.

"Watch this," she said as she stood up straight again and the waiter and the manager came scurrying over to the table, "and who're you then? Come teh explain the rip-off that just took place, have yeh?"

"I am the manager of this establishment, madam, and I am truly sorry of you feel insulted, offended or conned in any way."

"Is it yer policy to take away this woman's option teh tip by keeping her money without her say so?" Marie said as she pointed to Julie, who was now sinking slowly beneath the table in embarrassment.

"Indeed, it isn't and I would like to reimburse your friend in full by way of an apology for this unpleasantness." The Manager smiled in a way he apparently thought was charming.

Marie drew in a deep breath and looked to Julie.

"Well, that's somethin' I suppose, Julie, open yer purse...yer man here's goin' teh give yeh a tip."

Floella almost exploded with stifled laughter. Molly was nodding her head approvingly and Julie felt as if her head was going to burst into flames as she took her money back from the grovelling man.

As they left, Floella's eyes strained to hold back tears from escaping. A jovial and triumphant Marie linked arms with Julie and smiled.

"It's the Finnigan party piece, ye know?" she said proudly. "My Fergus doesn't get himself thrown outta pubs accidentally. He always seems to get inteh some aggro when his money runs out."

Julie chuckled and squeezed Marie's arm while Molly and Floella trailed along behind them, Molly fretting about still keeping the mints when they hadn't paid their bill.


	9. Come Back To What You Know

**Come Back To What You Know**

Fred and George were babbling on about the reinvention of the Mumbles Bumblebees Quidditch team and how the Cockfosters Cockfrotters, not their official name but the label they had to live with due to the public latching on to it as soon as a commentator mispronounced the team name during a semi-final years ago, didn't have a hope in hell. Lee just tagged along the same way he'd always done through school and nodded whenever they needed to be agreed with and laughed when they looked to him to confirm they'd been funny.

He was sure there had been more to their friendship than that. He knew he hadn't been there as nothing more than the person they were showing off to. It was fun. When the twins had left the school during the Umbridge reign of terror and Lee stayed behind, he was utterly lost without them. Nobody really noticed him anymore, as if they ever had, and even though he was the big Quidditch commentator and tried to keep the anarchy torch burning for the twins by floating Nifflers into Umbridge's office he was still invisible.

The twins were four pairs of shoes to fill and Lee only had two feet.

"See the Welsh are the new Quidditch nation. I reckon if Wales played Ireland today, they'd cream them!" George said boldly as he walked through the throngs of Cockfosters supporters.

"See, all those years in the League of Wales meant we never got to see how good they were," Fred turned his head to talk over his shoulder at Lee, "and then when Celtic nations all joined up with the Anglo Romany league, the whole league table was turned on its head. The best English team was struggling to compete with the worst Celtic team."

"It became very clear, very fast why England weren't doing well in international matches." George nodded.

"I was only away for a few weeks, lads," Lee said sulkily. "I do know all of that already."

The twins looked at each other anxiously before slowing their pace and falling into step on either side of Lee.

"We were just kicking off a conversation, mate," Fred said with a nudge to Lee's ribs and a nervous smile.

"Yeah, you love talking about Quidditch as if it's a mirror of society, and as if it's a reason for living, and as if it's..."

"It's just a bloody game," Lee huffed and sped up to leave them trailing behind him in shock.

* * *

"Ron!" Hagrid boomed as he flung his arms wide and then froze as if he'd been stunned. "Good teh see yer!"

Hagrid reverted to a two armed wave and Ron snorted at the ridiculous sight and soon Harry and Hermione were laughing along with him. Hagrid looked embarrassed but seemed to have been put at ease by Ron not fainting at the thought of a great big half giant hugging him. Fang bounded over to the three of them and Harry stepped in front of Ron to make sure the dog's enthusiastic greeting didn't ruin the good mood everyone was in. Fang's large hind quarters knocked Hermione into Hagrid's pile of dead ferrets and his front paws landed heavily on Harry's shoulders.

"Fang, down!" Hagrid said gruffly. "No, boy, down!"

Harry staggered backwards into Ron and the two of them fell into Hagrid's huge armchair behind him, Fang still pinning Harry beneath his massive paws and slobbering all over his face. Hagrid grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off them and Harry flailed his legs around in an attempt to climb off Ron's lap and out of the chair. He could feel Ron's body shaking beneath him and threw himself over the armrest just to get off his best friend's lap.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Harry was stunned to see Ron pink faced and breathless with laughter.

"Ron?" Harry gasped in shock.

"I got a lap dance from Harry Potter!" Ron wheezed. "Oh where's the Skeeter woman when you really need her?"

Hermione, despite being covered in ferret blood and black, oozing stuff, started laughing delightedly and Hagrid looked immeasurably pleased with himself.

"Reckon I migh' 'ave a camera somewhere. How much d'yeh think she'd pay me fer it?"

Harry shifted his weight so he was sitting on the armrest and his feet were resting on the cushion beside Ron. He smiled at him and Ron wiped his leaking eyes with his thumb before lifting his hand and pretending to shove Harry off the arm backwards. Harry held up his hands defensively.

"You do it, Weasley, and I'm taking you with me!" he warned.

"Same as always, eh?" Ron said cheekily.

* * *

Fergus tried to tune out the sound of his mother's voice but it became impossible when his Aunt Kathleen Flooed into the living room screeching about her Seamus being as stupid as he was ugly, which Fergus had to admit was very harsh, before pouncing on him and shaking him by the shoulders.

"You aren't goin' anywhere, my boy!"

"I'm not yer boy, Auntie Kath," Fergus said with determination just as the fireplace blazed green again and Seamus ran out after his mother and bellowed at her.

"Yeh can't lock me undies away forever, Ma. I can still move out without undies, ya know? There's this new t'ing called shops and I can buy more!"

"She locked away yer pants, Shay?" Fergus asked incredulously.

"Can yeh believe it? She's like a child!" Seamus exclaimed in amazement.

Kathleen Finnegan slapped her son across the face and went red in the face.

"I wiped yer arse and cleaned yer piss-soaked sheets, young fella, me lad, so I'll have some respect from you."

"Give me somethin' ta respect, Ma!" Seamus said cruelly.

"Seamus shut yer trap and wait in the kitchen," Fergus' mum said sternly.

"But Aunt Marie I'm old enough teh move out if I wan-"

"The kitchen, Seamus!" she boomed.

Seamus glanced at Fergus before stomping away.

"I'm goin' even if you don't. I've feckin' had it."

"I'm goin, Shay," Fergus said calmly before turning to face his mother, "I'll leave everything I own behind, undies and all, but I'll still be goin,' Ma."

"For what reason?" his mother demanded of him.

"Because I'm a man bein' treated like a child or worse..." Fergus almost stopped himself. He hesitated and nearly managed to stop himself but not quite, "...like a substitute fer Da."

His mother swelled and her eyes bulged. His Aunt Kathleen looked as if she was waiting for him to be knocked to the ground so she could start kicking him when he was down. When his ma finally spoke her voice was low and level, it was unnerving to be honest.

"I never had teh nag yer father, not once, an' d'you know why that was, Fergus?"

"Because ye had him castrated?" Fergus said, his inner-self screaming at him to stop being such an arse.

"Because yer father respected me," the proud, yet furious, woman hissed into his face. "Yer not leavin' this house, son. I'm tellin' ye ya get out. Get out and stay away until ye remember what made yer father a man and what makes you a boy."

"Ma y-"

"Get out!"

Fergus drew in a shaky breath but held his nerve. He sidestepped his mother and walked silently into the kitchen. He saw Seamus staring at him, looking astonished, and nodded towards the back door.

"Fergus, yeh shouldn't leave it like tha. Yeh Ma's not like mine, she's a good auld bird."

"I have teh go, Shay," Fergus said quietly. "We both need me teh go away."

* * *

"So why do you think you're suited to a career in the food service industry, Mr Painter?"

"Err..." Tommy sat back in his seat and puffed out his cheeks, looking up at the ceiling as he ransacked his brain for a thought that wasn't 'get over yourself, you saddo...it's just a chip shop', "...well everybody has to eat, don't they?"

"Everybody doesn't _have_ to eat here though, do they? We entice them in and keep them loyal to us with exceptional customer service."

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "that, too."

The interviewer drew him a breath and let it out heavily before proceeding.

"So why don't you give me an example of good customer service?"

_Because it's bloody obvious, you great prat!_

"Well," Tommy began, trying to imagine that chips were the staple food of a whole civilisation and his not serving them well enough would lead to mass starvation, "I'd make sure to smile and acknowledge the customer as soon as they stepped through our door, before even! Yes, I'd just be smiling the whole time, even when nobody was looking."

"Right," the interviewer said as he wrote something down on his clip board and crossed his legs.

"And I'd make sure that everything was to the customer's satisfaction," Tommy added, feeling something of a roll coming on, "and if it wasn't I'd make them my personal guarantee that next time it would be. That'd bring the person back just to see if I delivered on my promise, y'see?"

"I see, yes," the man said, utterly unimpressed. "But we don't really want to be making apologies for shoddy work, do we?"

Tommy stared at the man and didn't say a word.

"So, you do seem enthusiastic. I notice you've never had a job before. Why is that, Mr Painter?"

Tommy blinked and sat back in his chair.

"Mr Painter?"

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy said as he leaned forward over the man's desk.

The man leaned closer.

"Of course."

"Do you realise that if chips stopped existing, the world would still keep going?"

The man looked stunned.

"What are you...?"

"I mean, this is a job where I am polite to people who want to buy chips," Tommy said with a smile. "They come in and say 'Can I have a bag of chips please?' and I say 'Of course' and I give them a bag of chips and they give me a quid and I'm happy and they're happy. Then they leave. What more do you want?"

"Well, there's more to the job than just tha-"

"No," Tommy said firmly, "there isn't. Your job is not important. A doctor, they're important people, so are nurses. A scientist does something, they produce something, they learn something. There are people out there who aren't working but who are giving more to society in one week than the likes of you will ever do in your life. You sell people chips. That's all you do. There is no more to the job than that."

"Well, I can see there's nothing more to cover in this interview." The man smiled as he put down his clipboard and pen and extended his hand for Tommy to shake.

Tommy looked at the man's hand and stood up from his chair without shaking it.

"You wanted to know why I never had a job, sir?" he said coolly. "It's quite simple, really. I want to do something more than stand on the sidelines selling starch, salt and fat to the people who actually have lives."

"Good luck with that, Mr Painter," the interviewer said, avoiding Tommy's eyes.

"I don't need luck," Tommy said sharply. "I just need to walk out of this place and never have to come back again to have done better than you."

He left without another word and wondered what he'd tell his mother about the overdue gas bill he still couldn't help her pay.

* * *

Lee felt self-conscious and edgy, out in such a public place, and when he wasn't avoiding people's eyes, he was glaring at them as if challenging them to say something to him.

"So we were thinking, mate," Fred began, seeming to want to say anything to defuse the tension in his best friend, "your Quidditch commentaries were the stuff of legend, right?"

"Luna Lovegood seemed to have eclipsed me from just one match," Lee mumbled. "I reckon I'm probably Lee who?' to half of Hogwarts by now."

"Bollocks, you are!" George said loudly. "Your microphone fights with McGonagall are going to be documented in the re-print of _Hogwarts: A History_!"

"Just forget it," Lee said glumly. "School's over."

Fred swelled with determination and swung his arm around Lee's shoulders.

"School's never over, Lee. Charlie was a Hogwarts legend before we even started going to school and he still gets Gryffindor fans accosting him wherever he goes."

"Up a mountain in the Andes, he was," George nodded with an enthusiastic smile, "and this local man wearing animal skins who didn't speak a word of English was on his way down with some moss stuff that only grows at the summit and he saw our Charlie..."

"Dropped his moss AND his spear AND his wand!" Fred added.

"And squeaked like a sixteen-yearold girl 'Charlie Weeeslee!' and hugged him like a brother," George said in proud amazement.

"Then he took out this Quidditch annual and flicked to Charlie's page and got him to sign it. You're telling me that people forget school Quidditch?" Fred boggled. "That bloke didn't even go to Hogwarts and he went giddy over Charlie!"

Lee huffed and slouched back in his seat in the stands between the twins so he couldn't see the couple further up the row pointing at him and gossiping.

"That's different, he was a player. When was the last time you heard people leaving a Quidditch match going on about the commentary?"

"Well, Ron wouldn't shut up about Luna's," George said before he realised he was saying completely the wrong thing.

"AND," Fred said as he glared at his twin, "everybody used to come up to you in the common room quoting you back to yourself, didn't they?"

"Guys, what's your point?" Lee groaned.

The teams were warming up on the oval pitch and the crowd were getting restless and chanting for their favourite players. George raised his voice to be heard over the singing.

"Did we ever tell you about the Omnioculars Harry got at the last World Cup?"

"Yeah," Lee said with a finger in his ear to block out the swelling noise.

"Well, we thought of doing something similar but with audio instead of visual," Fred explained with great enthusiasm.

"We want to make something you can point at the pitch and have these two extendable ear type attachments and as the match proceeds the person will get your voice delivering a classic Lee Jordan commentary!"

Lee stared at George as he finished and blinked. The crowd roared as the home team did a lap of the ground on their brooms. Lee turned his head to blink at Fred and then swallowed before getting to his feet and calling over to the couple who had been gossiping about him a little way away.

"Hey, you two," he called out, "do you want to hear what I think about Quidditch?"

The woman flushed in the face and looked down into her lap while the man puffed out his chest and narrowed his eyes at Lee.

"Why don't you fuck off?"

Lee turned to look down at the twins and he threw his arms wide with a bitter smile on his face.

"See?" he said before calling to the crowded stand behind him. "Any of you lot willing to pay for a match commentary from me?"

"Sit down, son," a man with three young children sitting with him said firmly but sympathetically.

The crowd hissed with the multiple whispers of people recognising him and telling the person they were sitting next to them who he was and what he'd done.

"Lee, sit down," George said anxiously, tugging at his friend's wrist.

"No, seriously," Lee said, still addressing the crowd, "how many of you want to hear what I have to say on anything?"

"Kiss my arse!" somebody from way back yelled out.

"Don't say that," a man sitting directly behind Fred snorted. "He won't know when to stop. Got the taste for it now, haven't ya sicko?"

Fred was up, turning and throwing his punch before anybody could react.

"You shut your bloody mouth!" he bellowed into the man's bloodied face.

"Fellas," the reasonable man called out once more, "I have young 'uns here. Please!"

George grabbed Fred and dragged him away. Lee clambered over several rows to get to the aisle and ran down the stairs ahead of them.

"Lee!" George was calling after him. "Lee hold up!"

"That fuckin' swine!" Fred was still thrashing in his brother's arms, wanting to go back and finish knocking the rude man's block off.

"If you don't come back here now I'm gonna stop you seeing Ron!" George shouted furiously.

Lee froze instantly. It was as if he had a bucket of icy water dumped over his head. The twins caught up with him and sat him down on a bench in the deserted ticket sales area. They sat on either side of him and Fred put an arm around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"S'okay, mate," Fred said unsteadily, "he just said that to get you to stop. We wouldn't banish you from The Burrow or anything, as if we could!" he said with a snort and a chuckle.

Lee looked at George's face and he didn't look so amused.

"That right, George?" Lee asked the kinder of the two Weasleys.

George drew in a deep breath and fixed his eyes on Lee's.

"Honestly," George began, "I want you to back off and give him some space."

"George!" Fred snapped, glaring at his twin.

"You think it, too," George huffed. "You just don't like having serious conversations."

"So you're..." Lee was stunned by George's announcement and tried to react t the same time he was trying to process the information, "...jealous of the time I'm spending with Ron?"

"No," Fred said firmly, shaking his head.

"No," George said even more clearly.

"Oh come on," Lee gave a weak laugh, "you made such a big deal out of today. Me and you two spending the day together, just us, just the three of us like the good ol' days. That was what you said."

"Yeah," George nodded, "we wanted to go to a match with our mate like it wasn't anything special but something perfectly normal like it is for everybody else."

"So people are gonna look and whisper and stuff, but they'll get over it. They'll find something new to bitch about. You shouldn't have to hide at our mum's house or your mum's house until it blows over," Fred said as he rubbed Lee's back.

Lee shrugged Fred's touch off with a disgruntled huff.

"Look, I know you two don't have a lot of time for Ron but we got closer, alright? You're just going to have to deal with tha--"

"What?" Fred snapped angrily.

"You wanna re-phrase that Lee!" George said, body tense.

"Come off it," Lee laughed bitterly. "I was just the same. I didn't pay any attention to him but..."

"We are not the same to Ron," Fred said with a furrowed brow, "of course _you_ didn't pay attention to him, he was just a younger kid in the common room to you. He's our brother!"

Lee turned his head and stared at Fred, unable to believe he could be that hurtful to him. George caught on right away and physically turned Lee to face him instead.

"We're talking back then, okay? Back then he was nothing to you and he was our brother. You can't say he was nothing to us just because we didn't coddle him and fight his battles for him. He's our baby brother and to you that's all he was but we know that's different for you now."

Lee stood up and began to pace up and down.

"I think it's cool that you and Ronniekins are like brothers now, I really do," Fred said anxiously, "but he _is_ our brother. He's not _like_ our brother he just _is_."

"So you took me out today to keep me away from him?" Lee said angrily.

"We took you out today to get you out!" George explained, waving his arms animatedly.

"Just because you and Ron are closer, it doesn't mean the three of us have to change?" Fred said as he stood up as well. "We can still be friends like before."

"Before?" Lee snapped and ran a hand over his dreads. "Before I let your little brother get tortured or before I let him get molested or maybe before I turned my back on him when he needed me? How about before he went catatonic and I couldn't do anything to help him because I was so utterly useless?"

"You couldn't do anything because you'd had your fucking back flayed to keep that sadist's hands off him!" Fred said fiercely.

"You're my best friends and I told him, I _promised _him, I'd look after him the way you would have looked after him and I didn't!"

"No, you didn't," George shook his head.

"You really didn't," Fred agreed.

"You did much better."

Lee gulped and hugged his arms to himself. Fred guided him back to the bench and sat him down again.

"You deserve to have fun," Fred said in a low tone.

"You don't deserve to have to hide away." George nudged him in the side.

"You've nothing to be ashamed of." Fred smiled.

"I do," Lee nodded blankly. "I'm ashamed of holding him down with me when he's really trying to get over it."

"Well, we'll help you with that," George said simply.

"We want to help you both. We want to see you both through all this shit so you don't have to lean so heavily on each other." Fred said, sounding the least bit Fred-like Lee had ever heard.

The last time he'd heard the twins this serious was when they'd come back from visiting Ron in the hospital after his poisoning, when they heard about their father being attacked by Voldemort's snake, when Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.

Maybe the twins being serious wasn't so out-of-character after all.

* * *

Hermione was amazed at two things.

Number one was that Ron hadn't flinched once despite the fact that every time Madame Rosmerta topped off his drink, she'd stroke his hair and smile kindly at him.

Number two was that she wasn't the least bit jealous or angry with Rosmerta for doing so.

The visit to Hagrid had relaxed Ron so much that when he walked into the Three Broomsticks with Harry and Hermione, he didn't seem to be paranoid about people staring or talking about him at all. Hermione spotted McGonagall sitting in a quiet corner with Professor Flitwick, sipping a glass of sherry and guessed that she had made it clear to the patrons of the Wizarding pub that anybody stepping over the line around Ron would be in for the full force of her fury. Hermione discreetly raised her glass to her former teacher who smiled and winked back at her.

"Oh!" Ron suddenly exclaimed as he set his bottle of Butterbeer down.

"What?" Harry frowned, leaning forward.

"I just remembered--I didn't do my speech therapy exercises today!"

Harry smiled.

"Well, you didn't exactly need 'em today, did you?"

Ron frowned.

"Huh?"

"You've hardly stuttered all day, mate," Harry said proudly.

Ron's ears pinked a little and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. Hermione took his free hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze.

"It's been a nice day, hasn't it?" she said to the two of them.

"Yeah," Ron nodded and dribbled down his chin.

Harry snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out a tissue to wipe his face. As she dabbed and Ron grinned it suddenly sunk in that she was holding his face and stroking along his jaw and neck with her tissue. Their pupils began to dilate and Ron cleared his throat.

"I think you got it all."

"Yes," she nodded, still holding his face.

Harry was watching as if he had money on the outcome of this moment and whispered across the table.

"Just kiss her!"

Ron burst out laughing and Hermione joined in. She scrunched up the tissue and threw it across the table at Harry. The soft ball bounced off his forehead and Ron snorted into his bottle, still shaking with laughter, while Hermione took hold of Ron's hand again and rested their clasped hands on top of the table. Ron rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand and looked across to Harry.

"I was thinking about talking to Dad about...maybe training up for a job in the Ministry."

"What?" Harry's eyes widened in shock at Ron's unexpected announcement.

Ron immediately squeezed Hermione's hand tighter and looked down at his drink.

"Well, only if you're okay with it, y'know? That's why I wanted to talk to you first," he mumbled.

"Okay with me?" Harry blinked, not following this at all. "Why should you have to run your jobs past me?"

Ron glanced up again.

"Well, it's the Ministry, isn't it?" Ron shrugged, tilting his head at an apologetic angle. "They screwed you over and keep on doing it."

"They also have good people working for them to improve it and get rid of all those stupid politicians who would rather lie to the public and bury problems that need to be dealt with under the carpet," Hermione said in her most political activist-like voice.

"Yeah," Harry smirked, "what she said. Besides, your dad works for the Ministry, so it can't be all bad."

Ron seemed a lot happier about his announcement now but Hermione could tell there was one more thing he wanted to get Harry's opinion on before seriously considering his options.

"Ron, what is it?"

"Well," Ron began, pausing to take a drink from his bottle and set it down again as he swallowed, "the Ministry, they're international aren't they? I mean they have international dealings and stuff."

Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, like when the World Cup was being organised and the Tri-Wizard thing," Harry said.

"And we have Embassies in other countries, I mean the two of you know that well enough, don't you?" Ron said darkly.

"So you want to be an Ambassador, do you?" Hermione beamed. "Oh I love it. I love how you have high expectations of yourself now, Ron, I really..." Hermione was twitching all over with the desire to throw herself at him and hug him so tightly his ribs would crack.

Ron gave her a lopsided grin and leaned into her, putting his arms loosely around her and nodding while rolling his eyes at Harry.

"Go on then, let me breathe, though."

Harry laughed and Hermione returned his loose hug before settling into his side comfortably.

"And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not looking to be an Ambassador or a diplomat or anything like that."

Harry burst into giggles and Ron gaped at him.

"What's so funny?" he asked his best friend.

"Just the idea of you being a diplomat!" Harry said crumpling down into his seat with laughter. "No offence Ron but that's like throwing petrol onto a fire."

"Oh sod off, ya git!" Ron huffed, trying to look grumpy and offended but his lip curling wickedly as he frisbeed a beer mat at Harry.

"Will you two stop chucking stuff at me?" Harry said as he batted the beer mat away with one hand.

Hermione giggled as Ron's arm hung around her shoulders and held her into his side comfortably.

"So what sort of job would you be interested in then, Ron?" she asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Well, I'm not fluent but I've got a head start and we know I can learn it pretty fast so I thought...maybe...well the new Ambassador in Holland might need an interpreter."

Harry and Hermione were silent. They started at him blankly and Ron swallowed.

"Or like you said, international public relations and stuff, sports events and...and stuff? Maybe it's...yeah, maybe it's stupid."

"No!" Hermione sat up and shook her head emphatically. "It's not stupid at all, it's a wonderful idea. It's a job about communication and unification and...Oh Ron, it's a wonderful idea."

Ron shrugged and blushed.

"Well, like I said I'd have to speak to Dad and find out if something like that's realistic first." He glanced over at Harry and winced. "You're worried about something, aren't you?"

Harry pressed his lips together thoughtfully before leaning over the table and looking Ron in the eye.

"It's just that...you speak Dutch when you get upset or frustrated or frightened. Dutch doesn't seem to be...something you enjoy...not, not that...I mean..."

"It owns me?" Ron offered up.

"Kind of," Harry nodded, "you didn't learn Dutch because you wanted to--you learned it because you needed to. When we...When _I_ hear you speaking Dutch, it's normally because you're unhappy. I wouldn't want you to take a job that would make you unhappy."

Ron smiled at Harry and leaned over the table so they were practically head-to-head.

"The thing is," he said in a low voice, causing Hermione to lean forward as well, "I have this whole other language that just seems to happen to me."

Harry nodded and Ron continued.

"I wanna learn more of it but I wanna learn to control when I use it as well. I wanna say it when I choose to say it. I wanna speak it because I choose to speak it, y'know?"

"Yeah, I get it. I'm with you now," Harry said, looking a lot happier about Ron's plan now.

"It's like magic, I could do magic before I went to school, just like you two could." Ron nodded between Harry and Hermione. "Only there was no control over it so I went to school and I learned how to control it and use it at will to do what I wanted it to do. It's like that. I don't want this other language to happen to me when I least expect it, I want to choose to speak in another language."

"I bet you will do as well," Harry said with a confident smile.

"I think you'll be wonderful," Hermione beamed.

Madame Rosmerta approached the table and, on noticing Hermione had become much closer to Ron physically, refrained from stroking her hand softly over his hair.

"Another round, my loves?" she asked them amiably.

"What do you think?" Harry asked them. "Stay for one more?"

"I'm happy enough here," Hermione nodded.

"Another round it is then," Ron smiled before wriggling away from Hermione with a frown of apology, "but I _really_ need the loo before I can drink anymore. Keep my seat warm for me?"

Hermione grinned and shifted around so Ron could squeeze past and set off to the gents.

"Back in a bit," he waved before setting off.

"This day," Harry said in shock as soon as Ron vanished into the gents toilets, "has gone so much better than I could have ever hoped for."

"I know," Hermione let out a relieved sigh, eyes wide. "Maybe it's being here. Everybody around here remembers him growing up and they know what he's like so they don't judge him."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "this was definitely a better experience for him then when he goes out in London."

Suddenly the door to the gents toilets banged open and a tall, robed man came running out, face white as a ghost. Harry and Hermione were on their feet and running towards the lavatory immediately.

"Somebody Floo for a Healer! Something's wrong with the Weasley kid!" the man shouted.

McGonagall got to the man before they did.

"What happened, Melvin?" she demanded as she marched into the gents without hesitation, closely followed by an anxious Harry and Hermione.

"He was at the urinal having a slash and I just stepped up to the one next to him and got ready to go and he just...he looked at me as if I was You-Know-Who and went down on the floor like a sack of spuds and started jerking about!"

"Oh no," Hermione whimpered.

"What did you do?" Harry snarled.

"I didn't do anything!" the man exclaimed while McGonagall crouched over Ron and twirled her wand around his head, muttering incantations under her breath. "I didn't even say anything to him. You don't talk when you're pissing, do ya?"

"Harry, it wasn't him," Hermione said tearfully, clutching the arm of his jumper and fighting to hold in her tears. "It wasn't anyone. He's having a fit, a stress-induced seizure. The Healers warned us this might happen, remember? It's from one of the blows to his head."

McGonagall appeared to change tact on hearing this and flicked her wand at Ron's sweaty face. A soft, purple spell sank into his head and Ron's jerky movements stilled.

"He needs to be taken to Poppy in the Hospital Wing. It's faster and safer for him that transporting him to St Mungo's. Let his Healers come to him," the Headmistress said sharply as the man, Melvin, levitated Ron onto an invisible stretcher and floated him out of the toilet, through the pub and out onto the street.

"Hermione, I don't understand. If that bloke didn't do anything, why would Ron...?"

"Think about it, Harry," Hermione said, tears falling freely now, "a strange man walks up to him from behind, opens his robes and takes out his penis."

"Oh God!" Harry shuddered. "Is he going to be alright?"

Hermione knew that McGonagall had done enough to halt Ron's seizure and Madam Pomfrey could fix up any ill effects like new. It wasn't serious but it was highly unpleasant.

Things had just been going too well.


	10. Boo!

_Disclaimer - No physical descriptions are intended to resemble any real life people who may or may not go by the nickname B00._

**Boo!**

"Hello, Ron."

Ron looked up from his hospital bed and smiled at the woman in Healer's robes.

"Can I go now?" he asked her hopefully.

The Healer conjured up a chair and sat beside Ron's bed on the ward in St Mungo's. He had been dressed and ready to leave ever since he'd been transferred from Hogwarts late the previous night.

"You can go whenever you want to, Ron, but I'd like it if you stayed to talk to me for a moment," she smiled kindly.

She was a short woman with her brown hair loosely pinned up in a bun. There were four or five pencils stuck in her bun and she was kind, but tired looking. She looked to have been a very curvaceous woman who had just lost a lot of weight. She looked fairly trim but very cuddly, as if she was wearing her skin like a loose fitting, comfortable suit.

Ron sighed deeply and slumped onto his elbow.

"I already said he didn't do anything. It's my fault, I just...I had a flashback and freaked out."

"Ron, could you tell me what the man you saw just before you had your seizure looked like?" the Healer said in a calming tone.

"Err..." Ron looked to the ceiling and bit his lip. "I think he...no, he was...he um..."

"How tall was he Ron?"

"_Big!"_ Ron said emphatically.

"Well, that's something isn't it?" the Healer said as she sat back in her chair, impressed. "I mean for someone as tall as you to say somebody is big must mean they were huge!"

Ron blinked.

"No, _he_ wasn't, the man in the toilets wasn't bigger than me."

The Healer looked concerned yet understanding.

"So who was it then, Ron? Who was bigger than you?"

Ron paled and looked down at his hands.

"I didn't s-s-say..."

"Hum for a second, Ron," the Healer ordered.

"Wha-What?" Ron blinked in confusion.

"Hum for five seconds and then say what you wanted to say."

Ron shifted awkwardly and avoided eye contact before liking his lips, taking a deep breath and then humming for the count of five. The humming stopped and the room echoed into silence. Ron braced himself and tried to speak again.

"I don't remember what he looked like. I didn't see him."

The Healer nodded and smiled once again.

"Who _did _you see?"

"Somebody else," Ron said quietly.

"Somebody you know?" the Healer asked with a tilt of the head.

Ron didn't say anything.

"Ron, what was the last thing you remember before you had your seizure?"

Again, Ron stayed silent.

"Your friends are ready to take you home but I'd like to talk to you again in a day or two. Would that be okay, Ron?"

"Why?" Ron looked back at her at last. "I'm okay now. I don't even need potions or anything."

"No, you don't need potions but I do think you need to talk."

Ron's eyes widened and he got up off his bed and glared down at her.

"Did Hermione send for you?"

"I'm sorry?" the woman blinked in shock. "Who's Hermione? I was assigned your case from within the Ministry and approved by the Healer who admitted you."

"But Her-Hermione...she...I said I didn't want any more Healers."

"I'm not like the other Healers, Ron," the woman said, still sitting calmly in her chair and looking up at him. "I'm here to help you recover from your trauma so you won't have any seizures anymore."

"I only h-had one!" Ron yelled and turned to storm out.

"Who was he, Ron?" the Healer called after him.

"He's no one!" Ron growled as he headed for the door. "He's dead!"

Ron's palm was about to slam against the door and push it open when the Healer's chair scraped against the floor as she called out.

"How do you know that?"

Ron froze before the door and swallowed. He could feel the witch's eyes on him and couldn't turn around.

"Your brother Percy is very worried about you, Ron." the Healer said sadly. "Please come back and find me when you feel you need to talk. My name is Madam Boo."

"Boo, eh?" Ron said, still facing the door with his arm raised. "Y'don't sc-scare me."

He pushed open the door and stepped outside. The door swung behind him and he saw Harry, Hermione and his dad jumping to their feet and staring at him.

"Just the three of you, eh?" Ron said suspiciously.

Hermione smiled and held out her hand for him to take.

"I sent them all home."

Ron took her hand but stayed some distance apart from her.

"You didn't send her?" he asked her with a cautious sideways glance.

"Send who?" Hermione frowned.

The gap between them closed a little and Ron squeezed her hand tight.

"No one."

* * *

Fergus chewed the inside of his lip as he watched Seamus holding onto the picture frame and staring at the bare walls of the living room.

"Maybe not in here, eh?" Seamus muttered to himself. "Shall I try the hall again?"

"Yeh know where ya wanna put it, Shay," Fergus sighed wearily. "Just hang the thing above the fireplace and finish unpackin'."

Seamus lifted the picture, with its sticking charm already in place on the back, up to the wall and fixed it in pride of place above the fireplace.

"There," he said, happily but with a slight twang of discomfort. "Ye sure it won't keep remindin' ya, though?"

Fergus looked up at the large framed team photograph of West Ham United and smiled.

"It'll keep remindin' me o'Dean," Fergus said as he set a freestanding framed photograph of Viktor Krum in his Bulgaria robes on the mantelpiece beneath it, "an' I don't wanna forget the lads, none of 'em."

"Nah," Seamus said as he looked back at the picture. "Did he really sing te yeh?"

"He did." Fergus nodded.

"I tried..." Seamus began before pausing, "I tried teh watch all the memories at the trial but after seeing what they did teh Ron an' Cormac when ya first got taken, I just couldn't see 'em break him."

"They _didn't_!" Fergus said firmly. "He was strong fer everyone Shay. He was strong fer Ron."

Seamus' eyes darkened and he looked into the empty grate.

"Sometimes, I wish that arsehole had stabbed Ron instead o'Dean. Does tha make me a bastard?"

"Nah," Fergus shook his head, "it makes yeh a good mate. I lost both my cellmates in one go an' all I could think was 'thank Jaysis it wasn't me!'"

"I'm glad it wasn't you," Seamus said with a cheeky smile. "Who'd I have to drink me under the table?"

Fergus cackled and set off for the fridge for a couple of cans.

"I got the hint. I'm gettin' 'em!"

* * *

Ron was standing before the fireplace in the kitchen with Hermione. It was late and she needed to Floo home. Harry was up in their room, possibly getting touchy feely with Ginny, and Charlie and his father were repairing the family clock his mother had dropped when she saw Ron's hand moving around to 'Hospital'.

"Well goodnight, Hermione, dear," the older witch said as she reluctantly left them to say goodnight to each other.

She had been hovering over Ron ever since he'd returned home. Ron had tried to make light of it but he really wished she didn't seem to be waiting for him to collapse or burst into tears at any moment.

"Goodnight, Mrs Weasley," Hermione smiled and waved as the woman stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Ron sighed in relief at finally being left alone with his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her with a tired groan.

"Can't I come with you?" he murmured into her hair.

Hermione hugged him back and gave a tired giggle.

"I wish you could but you know they'd only worry more." She looked up at him and rose up on tiptoes, kissing him on the lips softly and lowering down again with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Come for breakfast?" Ron said with his most puppy dog face ever.

Hermione laughed and curled her arms tightly around his waist, head settling on his chest, and closed her eyes.

"Are you going to make me something or take me out for something?"

"I'll make you something involving eggs," Ron grinned, "and if you fancy eating out, I can serve them to you in the garden!"

They both chuckled and Hermione looked back up at him, opening her mouth to speak, but Ron lowered his head and kissed her. He could feel her gasp into his mouth. He stroked his tongue along her bottom lip and then pushed in a little way to lap at her tongue before moving back and concentrating on kissing just her lips again.

Hermione wasn't moving her hands or her mouth. Ron guessed that she was terrified of pushing back and ruining the moment between them. Ron pulled her back a step with him and perched on the edge of the table so she didn't have to reach up for him. His mind flashed a warning to him. There was a big blinking sign inside his head saying '_you're sitting on a table_' but he knew he could get up if he wanted to. He knew Hermione wouldn't push him down onto it. He knew he was safe so he ignored the sign.

Hermione felt as if she was resisting. She seemed to have a flashing sign before her as well. Ron tilted his head to one side and pulled at her bottom lip with both of his, eyes blinking back at her huge dark brown ones, and spoke in a low voice.

"I'm alright," he kissed her slightly parted lips, "it's different when you're here." He kissed her again, more firmly this time. "You're different." He let his fingers burrow into her hair as Hermione's hands held his face and pulled it towards her. "You're special."

Hermione opened her mouth and moaned into his as she massaged their lips together and even chanced a stroke of her tongue against the warm firm muscle she wanted to taste so much. Ron pulled her into him, eased his tongue deeply into her mouth and stroked it against the side of hers as he pulled back again with a sigh.

"I love you," Hermione said breathlessly.

"Don't go," Ron said as he nuzzled into the side of her neck.

"You'll be fine without me. I promise you'll be safe." Hermione paused to lap at Ron's open mouth. "You'll be peaceful," she hummed into another kiss, plunging her fingers deep into his rust-coloured hair and moving her head to the other side, "and I'd be all over you if I don't go now!"

Ron sniggered into her mouth and Hermione whimpered before laughing weakly and resting her head against the crook of his neck.

"I mean it, Ron," she sighed, "I can't push you to your limit before we stop. I won't do that to you. We have to stop now."

Ron held her close against his body and kissed the side of the head.

"What'll I do in the night if I...What'll I do?"

"You'll have, Harry."

"But Harry's not as good a kisser as you!"

Hermione felt Ron laughing and shoved him in the chest as she fought not to smirk herself. She stepped away from him, towards the fireplace, and their fingers interlaced as if reluctant to obey their minds and let go.

"I'll see you for eggs in the garden." Hermione smiled sadly.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Hermione let go of his hand and turned to grab a handful of Floo powder and throw it at her feet before Ron did something else she couldn't resist. With a burst of green flame she was gone.

Ron slumped back against the table and stared at the empty fireplace. He touched his lips and smiled sadly before shifting uncomfortably on the table. He stood up and turned to look down at it. After a few seconds he leaned over it a little way and then leaned back again. He swallowed. He leaned further over the table, holding his breath, and then pulled back yet again. Drawing in a bracing breath Ron put his hands flat down on the table and leaned right over it and tried not to tremble.

Something caught his eye from the window. There was a familiar but sudden sound and Ron flinched and leapt back with arms raised defensively. An owl landed on the table where he had been leaning and blinked three times before sticking its leg out. Ron frowned and looked at the small roll of parchment attached to the bird's foot. The owl hooted and ruffled its feathers. The parchment moved a little and he read his own name on the small roll.

Ron reached forward and untied the parchment, the owl flying away as soon as he did, and unfurled it curiously.

_Mr Ronald B Weasley_

_The Burrow_

_Ottery St Catchpole_

Ron glanced at the closed kitchen door and wondered who could be writing to him so late at night and if he should get one of his family to look at the letter first. It might be another fetishist wanting to talk about whipping him and shoving their fist up his arse because they know that's what he really likes.

Ron shuddered and sat down in one of the vacant chairs as he looked at the scroll. He remembered talking to Tommy about those kind of letters. The other lads would just say things like '_Dirty old poofter'_ but Tommy had said to him that to be a homosexual you had to have feelings first. Those letters weren't about that. They were about...well, Ron didn't like to think about how many people there were in the world who liked to think that the Puppet Master had been denied a wonderful treat in raping him.

Ron took a few deep breaths in and out before unrolling the parchment and reading the neat black handwriting.

_Mr Weasley,_

_You may or may not be aware that my client has been trying to contact you._

_My client is Mr Erbarmen and he requests one brief moment of your time for a visit to his cell in Azkaban Prison._

_I understand why you would not wish to go to such an unpleasant pace and also why the idea of speaking to my client might be equally unpleasant for you but beg of you to show Mr Erbarmen this one kindness in return for a kindness he believes he showed you while you were imprisoned._

_There will be a visiting order waiting for you at the reception area at Azkaban Prison at all times should you feel willing or able to grant my client a moment of your company._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Bairstow Eves_

Ron stared at the parchment and shivered from the breeze coming in through the open window. The kitchen door opened and a yawning Charlie leaned in to say something to him.

"Hey runt, she gone ye...What's that?"

Ron didn't see the point in hiding it and held it out to Charlie who took it and read quickly, jaw clenching as he did so.

"Son? Charlie, what's the matter?" their dad was asking as he tried to read over Charlie's shoulder. "Oh."

"Where did you get this?" Charlie asked Ron, tensely.

"It just came," Ron said blankly.

"At night?" Charlie asked, his whole body tensing up as he glared at the open window as if this was all its fault. "They're even pestering him at night now, Dad. That's it! I've had enough. _I'm_ going down there."

Charlie was grabbed about the shoulders by his father and shoved backwards, with some considerable effort, into an empty chair.

"They won't let you see the man without a visiting order, now don't be silly, son."

"I'll use Ron's--this says he has one waiting for him." Charlie waved the letter between the two of them.

"Waiting for your brother, Charlie, not you," his father explained with a weary sigh. "You don't honestly think Azkaban will let anybody with the same last name show up and claim the order, do you?"

"Dad," Charlie said as he stared into his father's tired eyes with fierce intensity, "this has to stop now. I won't let them keep coming after him."

"So, I'll just be going to bed then," Ron said with a half smile at the two of them. "You don't need me for this, do you?"

Arthur turned to look at Ron and broke into a smile. Charlie just blinked incomprehensively.

"You...You don't mind that one of those bastards is writing to you?" his brother asked him in shock.

"A piece of paper can't hurt me, can it?" Ron shrugged before laughing. "Well, there's paper cuts, I suppose, but other than that."

"Ron, you don't have to put up a front for us," Charlie said as he rose from his chair. "Remember what the Healers said about your...episode?"

Ron rolled his eyes and his father did the same.

"For goodness sake, Charlie, he's not your great aunt Jemima. You'll be talking about his 'funny turns' next."

Ron grinned at his father and Charlie relaxed a little more before his serious face returned.

"But I mean it, runt," Charlie said as he looked Ron in the eyes. "The Healers said not to hide stuff, not to hold stuff in. Your head's still healing from all the beatings and..."

"I know what the Healers said, Charlie," Ron said, amusement wearing thin. "I'm not holding anything in. I just want to g-go to bed."

Ron's face suddenly looked greatly annoyed and he shoved Charlie in the chest.

"Oi!" Charlie said as he staggered back a little.

"Well, you made me stutter again...did you hear me? I was doing bloody brilliantly just then and you broke me, ya git!"

Charlie's face relaxed into a wide and very natural grin on hearing this and Ron threw a playful scowl at him before setting off for the door and slapping Charlie on the shoulder as he passed him by.

"I'm fine, Charlie. I'm just ready to Jack it in for the night and get back to being on edge tomorrow--I'm taking the night off just this once."

"Maybe we should all take the night off, too." Arthur smiled.

Ron threw a heavy arm around his dad and gave him a quick hug and a pat on the back.

"'Night, old man."

"'Night, Poopy Draws!"

Ron glared at his father and pointed a finger at him sternly.

"What happened to the 'Poopy Draws' agreement?"

"I'm making an amendment," Arthur smiled. "If you remind me I'm getting old I'll remind you exactly who potty-trained you!"

Ron considered his father for a moment before extending his hand. His father took it and shook it once.

"Amendment added."


	11. Entranced

**Entranced**

Ron, Lee, Tommy and Fergus sat around the kitchen table at The Burrow and watched Tonks place a leather bag on it. She pulled it open and removed seven racks of small glass phials, setting them down side by side along the centre of the table.

"What yeh doin'?" Fergus asked her as he looked from a memory of his of being buried alive to a pair of his and Lee's memories of being trapped down the deep hole in the ground with Ron, Dean and Colin while Jack Sloper was murdered out of sight.

"I'm returning your property as I'm required to by law," Tonks said in an unusually business like manner.

"I don't want 'em," Lee said, looking as if he was about to throw up and pushing his chair away from the table, shaking his head.

"I can destroy them for you if you ask me to, but I have to do it at your specific request, in front of witnesses and in front of you," Tonks explained sympathetically. "Oh lads, I'm really sorry. I didn't want to have to bring this to you but they're your memories and we have to give them back to you."

"She put this moment off as long as she could, boys," Lupin said with a kind smile, squeezing Tonks' shoulder reassuringly.

"All of 'em," Fergus said abruptly. "Destroy all of 'em. I don't want 'em back as vivid as they were. Just pour 'em down the bog fer all I care. I want nothin' teh do with 'em."

Fergus got up and left the table, stepping out into the back garden where Seamus was waiting for him anxiously.

"He'll have to come back inside for the obliteration," Tonks said as she peered after him through the glass pane in the door.

"Let him have a moment," Lupin said before nodding towards the others. "Let's see what these three want to do."

"Smash 'em," Lee said immediately. "That stuff can only be exploited by sickos and the likes of Skeeter and I want them gone!"

Tonks nodded and looked to Ron and Tommy.

Lee gave Ron a pat on the back and a sad smile. Ron frowned and turned to Tommy who was looking at him thoughtfully.

"Well?" Tonks asked.

"Well," Ron said before rubbing his hand over his hair roughly and sighing deeply. "I don't want to put it back. My Healers want less on my mind not more, I'm not sure...not sure I can cope with it at the moment, y'know? Sei-Seizures and that?"

"I think that's a wise choice, Ron." Lupin smiled warmly.

"But..." Ron began before looking at a rack of phials with his name on it and then looking at Tommy again.

"Ron," Lee asked with concern, "what's up? You can't want to keep them."

"Lee," Tonks said warningly, "let him decide for himself what he wants."

"But..." Lee began before holding his tongue with great reluctance and watching Ron and Tommy staring at each other.

"Tommy?" Tonks said encouragingly. "Do you know what you want to do with yours?"

Tommy nodded and smiled at Ron.

Ron sat back in his chair and exhaled deeply.

"Oka-kay," he said with a nod.

"Okay what?" Tonks asked, leaning forward.

Ron swallowed and reached forward to search through the phials before pulling one out and handing it to Tonks.

"In that one," he said without looking at the silvery liquid he was referring to. "I wan-wanna extract the bit where Da-Dan-Danny talks about his girl. I wanna give it to her so she can decide to look at it or bury it or...or something."

"Yeah," Tommy nodded emphatically, "I want to edit all my memories of Danny, everything I think his family would be proud to see, and I want them to have it."

Tonks gaped at the boys and Lee suddenly began to rattle through his own phials.

"I have something," he said frantically. "Take Danny's memory out before you trash the rest of mine. Let the Prangs have it."

Ron smiled at Lee who nodded now that he understood the unspoken mission.

"Ask Fergus if he wants t—" Tommy began but Lee was up and out of his chair straight away.

Ron watched Lee jog out the door to fetch Fergus and looked back at Tonks and Remus.

"They di-didn't even get a body."

Tonks felt her heart ache in her chest and Lupin sank down into the chair beside her.

"That's a very generous thought, boys." He smiled at them sadly.

"They should get something to put to rest." Tommy nodded.

"And his girl," Ron said, voice wavering, "he wanted her to know and I b-b-ballsed up the message with my stutter. I want her to hear it from hi-him."

"Ron," Tonks said, eyes stinging, "I spoke to everybody during the trial and I know you didn't mess up a single one of those messages."

"St-still," Ron shrugged, "I want her to have it."

"An' I think we should give Maccario's fiancée that big speech of his about the first time he saw her," Fergus said from the doorway. "I'll find it in here and pull it out fer ya."

The Irishman approached the table and began searching through the phials with a determined look on his face.

"Cally's kids should hear the way he talked about their mum," Lee said as he suddenly remembered another conversation they once had in the cells with a hint of a smile ghosting over his lips. "I always remember the way he described her. They should have that. I'll find it, I have that one."

The kitchen was suddenly filled with the clinking of glass phials and all four boys suddenly seemed much more at ease to be face to face with their memories. Tonks took Lupin's hand and squeezed it. It was amazing what those four men could do when they were all working together.

* * *

Harry listened through a crack in the door as Percy explained to Charlie and his parents why he could do nothing to stop Bairstow Eves from contacting Ron on behalf of his client. 

"It's legal documentation, Mother. I could go to Azkaban myself for intercepting something like that," the bespectacled Weasley said with a weary sigh.

"But his stress, Percy," Molly sniffed, wringing her hands. "His Healers said we had to do what we could to reduce the stress."

Arthur comforted his wife as Charlie paced up and down, face focused into an expression of intense concentration, while Percy straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"I tried to get a restraining order on medical grounds," Percy said hopelessly. "I explained about Ron's seizure the other day but they...well they...um..."

Molly broke away from her husband and grabbed Percy by the shoulders roughly.

"What did they say, Percy?"

"Mother, I didn't tell you but I've referred a specialist Healer to Ron. It's covered on my Ministry health care plan, potions and rehabilitation sessions are all paid for by the Ministry. I put Ron's name down as my dependant and..."

"Ron is _not_ dependant on anyone!" Charlie snapped angrily. "Especially not you!"

"Charlie, don't!" Arthur warned his older son. "Percy's explaining how he has pulled strings to get your brother the highest standard of care from St Mungo's."

"He doesn't need care!" Charlie yelled. "He doesn't need Healers, he's got us! He's got Hermione. You all saw how well she's handled him and how much better he's been doing. Harry and Lee do all the speech therapy with him now--he doesn't need your specialists, Percy."

"Well, Madam Boo thinks otherwise," Percy said, head bowed and chin resting upon his chest.

"Who in Merlin's name is Madam Boo when she's at home?" Charlie exclaimed. What?

"She's a very well-respected Healer of emotional trauma and I spoke to her about Ron. She spoke to Ron herself and she thinks she can help him."

"How?" Harry asked as he stepped into the room, not caring that he was giving away the fact he'd been listening in behind the door.

"She can help Ronald organise his thoughts," Percy said, lifting his head. "She said he has to learn to live with what happened rather than try to hide it from himself. She said that..."

"You said she'd spoken to Ronnie already?" Molly asked, dabbing her eyes with a dishcloth.

"Well, I tried to get Hermione to suggest Ron go to see her, but apparently it didn't go down too well and that's when he became clingy and dependant on Hermione," Percy said with a weighty sigh.

"Hermione's been doing a fantastic job with him," Harry said proudly yet defensively. "Don't you dare put her efforts down."

"I wasn't," Percy said calmly. "I wouldn't dream of it, but Hermione can't cope with everything Ron has to deal with and Madam Boo can. We really need to get him to go to her."

"Because our Ron has always responded so well to being pushed into doing things he doesn't want to, hasn't he?" Arthur chuckled bitterly.

"Well, we have to be very tactful and subtle about it, I admit that," Percy conceded before glancing at Charlie. "I'll get you a dictionary if you want to look those words up, Charlie."

"Oh, you always have to push it, don't you Percy?" Harry spat angrily.

Molly came between Percy and Charlie, arms spread wide to hold her sons apart, while Arthur pushed Harry back into the wall beside the door with a grunt.

"That's enough!" Molly yelled. "I will not see you all fighting each other over who gets to help Ronnie recover. I will not see him getting so upset his poor head goes on the fritz again."

"Your mother's right, boys," Arthur said firmly. "Seizures are dangerous things and we should be trying to keep Ron from ever having another, not fighting each other over who gets to cause the next one!"

"Father, I wouldn't..." Percy gaped in horror.

"Dad, it was him who was antagonising..." Charlie sputtered as he pointed at Percy.

"I'm really sorry, Mr Weasley," Harry muttered as he looked down at his shoes guiltily.

"You know what my grandfather used to say?" Arthur said as he let his body relax and patted Harry on the back while addressing his headstrong sons. "He used to say_ 'There's no point putting a repelling charm around your cake if there's already something in the middle eating it from the inside out!_' and coddling Ron isn't keeping him from getting eaten up by this."

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said, face crumpling.

"We don't know how to get inside without doing harm to the outside, so let's see if we can make Ron's outer shell feel safe enough for him to have the strength to go to her and help with what's troubling him inside."

"How do you mean, Mr Weasley?" Harry asked quietly.

"I think he means we get Ron feeling confident and strong and then let Percy suggest the specialist again," Charlie said stiffly.

Arthur smiled at his older son before looking at Percy, who nodded.

"She said she'll see him anytime he's ready."

"It was you!" Ron's astonished whisper over Harry's shoulder made him jump.

Ron stared at Percy with a look of total betrayal in his eyes before turning and running from the room.

Harry moved to go after him but Arthur held him back. Percy paled and took a step forward but Charlie stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder before murmuring to him to Floo to Hermione's parents' house and fetch her right away. As Percy disappeared in the living room fireplace, Charlie wrapped his arms around his mother tightly.

"We'll let him rant to Lee and the others until Hermione gets here and then we'll try to explain it to him, alright?"

* * *

"I don't want to talk to her!" Ron said, pacing around on edge before Hermione and Charlie. "I don't want her putting wo-words in my mouth and twisting things round. I don't want another person inside my h-h-h-h..." 

Hermione hurried towards him and stopped before they bumped together, opening her arms to him urgently. Ron fell into her tiredly.

"Head!" Ron said, voice muffled into her shoulder. "My head's too full. I don't want any more, Hermione."

"Madam Boo will take some of the pressure away, Ron," Hermione explained as she held him to her and rocked from side to side. "She can help you organize your thoughts. She won't be stomping through them. You wouldn't even have to let her in, just let her help."

"Like when somebody holds a rubbish bag open for you to chuck stuff into," Charlie chipped in, a hopeful look on his face.

Ron looked at Hermione and dipped his head like a scolded puppy.

"Can't you do it instead?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, shoulders falling.

"I wish I could. I've read so many books, Ron, and you know as well as I do books don't solve every problem."

"You can, though," Ron nodded with a scared kind of conviction.

"Ron, I can't. I can back up other people but I can't..."

"You helped with the speech therapy." Ron said, becoming his familiar difficult self.

"I followed the plans of the professional speech therapist you saw." Hermione reminded him.

"Look, Ron," Charlie said as he sat upon the kitchen table beside them, "we're not trying to get rid of you."

"No!" Hermione added, looking mortified.

"We're not handing you over to somebody else because we can't be bothered anymore." Charlie went on, "We just need to be shown the way. We need direction as much as you do."

"That's it exactly," Hermione nodded with a smile.

Ron drew a weary breath and rested his forehead against Hermione's.

"I don't wanna," Ron mumbled petulantly. "Can't you go and talk to her? Sh-She can tell you what to do and then you can do it with me."

Hermione pulled him into her embrace once again. "I wish it was tha--"

"Please?" he squeaked into her hair.

Hermione glanced at Charlie and rubbed Ron's back.

"Well, he's meeting us half way Hermione," Charlie conceded with a shrug, "and you did say you'd been reading up. Was there at least one thing you saw that you wanted to try?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Ron pulled away to look at her, not quite daring to hope.

"Do it," Ron said with a broken smile. "Whatever it is, do it. I trust you. I l-love you."

Hermione ran her fingers through Ron's messy fringe lightly and then pulled his head back into her shoulder before rocking them from side to side.

"I k-know you don't wan--" Ron began, but Hermione shushed him and carried on rocking.

"I want to listen to you breathe for a while, okay?" she said soothingly and Ron nodded. "Just hold me and breathe with me and close your eyes."

Hermione glanced over to Charlie who shifted uncomfortably on the table. He made a pointing gesture from himself to the door and then shrugged. Hermione gave the slightest shake of the head to tell him to stay. Charlie settled back down and watched them both.

Hermione could feel Ron's chest moving against hers, his back easing in and out against her hand where it rested between his shoulders, and began to speak into his hair soothingly.

"It all just lifts away, Ron."

His breath warmed and moistened her neck as he exhaled.

"If you listen now, you'll hear nothing, all those noises are being turned down as if they're coming from your mother's wireless and she's turning it off for the night because it's getting late."

He breathed in deeply and his narrow chest pressed into her breasts.

"I'm not hiding you. I'm not holding you to hide you away. I'm just holding you up..."

Ron made a comfortable sound as he exhaled into her skin once again.

"...I'm holding you up because your whole body's so very tired and heavy now." Hermione said as she felt him going limp in her arms and widened her eyes in alarm at Charlie.

He wasn't supposed to go this quick.

Charlie sprang off the table just in time to catch Ron as he slumped completely and Hermione overbalanced under his weight and staggered forwards with him. Ron's head and both arms swung back behind him like a rag doll and Charlie took him from her before they both hit the kitchen floor. Hermione braced herself against the table and Charlie lowered himself into a chair with Ron sprawled over his lap. It was like a mighty warrior trying to brandish a soft strand of spaghetti as if it was a spear. Charlie's strength was let down by his height in proportion to Ron's.

Ron had never looked more like two arms and two legs just held together in the middle by a Weasley jumper.

"Did he faint?" Charlie whispered worriedly. "He's not having another fit is he?"

"No," Hermione said as she pulled up a chair and sat before them, reaching to stroke Ron's hair away from his face. "I'm touching your head now, Ron. Can you hear me?"

"Mm," was Ron's simple reply.

Hermione pushed her fingers through copper locks and then let her hand glide down the side of his face to hold it gently, her other hand raising to cup the opposite side.

"Still me, always me touching you, okay?"

Ron made another sound that was something and nothing at once.

"I'm touching you and Charlie's holding you and we're all going to keep on breathing," Hermione said as she gave Charlie a meaningful nod.

Charlie clutched Ron's limp body to his broad chest and took a deep breath in and out. As he repeated the action Ron mirrored his breathing and Charlie looked as moved as he had done when he'd been describing how he once delivered a cross-bred dragon that was part mammal and bore live young.

Hermione's hands slid down past Ron's neck and down to his shoulders.

"I'm moving past your throat and across to your shoulders and down your arms," she said in an almost sing-song voice, "and you just keep on breathing with Charlie, okay."

Ron tried to nod but his head was so heavy it simply lolled against his chest.

"Have you hypnotised him?" Charlie said, aghast.

"No," Hermione said as she dragged her hands past his elbows and along his forearms to his wrists where she paused to cradle them gently, "it's a relaxation technique I looked up when he had that awful nightmare and wouldn't leave his room."

"So we're making sure he sleeps?" Charlie said, happy enough with such a purpose.

"Well, yes," Hermione winced slightly as she released Ron's wrists and eased her hands back up his arms to his shoulders, "but first I want to try and find out exactly where...well, not where but..."

"Just do it, Hermione," Charlie smiled confidently, getting more comfortable on his chair and hoisting Ron up so his long legs dangled over the side of his thigh and the upper body was supported by his strong arms as he lowered his little brother before Hermione so she was looking down at his peaceful face.

Hermione took a bracing breath and leaned forward to whisper into Ron's ear.

"I'm right here, Ron."

Ron's breathing picked up speed slightly and he turned his heavy head away from her with a frown crinkling his forehead.

"It's still me, always me," Hermione whispered, knowing exactly what was upsetting Ron. "If you open your eyes, you'll see my face, not his. I'm the one who's whispering this time...next time...the time after that..."

Ron squirmed on Charlie's lap and Charlie looked to Hermione to make sure his instinct to hold Ron securely was correct. She nodded, fearing Ron was going to fall off Charlie's lap and onto the floor. Nothing could break the trust they'd just earned more than Charlie dropping Ron; that was the most important thing right now, it was all about Ron knowing that no matter how uncomfortable he might be, he could still trust them.

"Talk to him as you do it," Hermione said to Charlie.

"I'm holding on to you, runt, it's only me, okay?"

Ron's breathing was settling, although still not as restful as it had been before, and Charlie held his brother firmly to keep his from wriggling. Ron immediately moaned and arched his back but Charlie held him to his chest and began breathing deeply again.

"You know it's me because you know how to breathe with me, remember? We breathe together, you and me."

Hermione made an eye opening gesture with her fingers and thumbs and then pointed at Charlie before giving a nod of encouragement.

"If you open your eyes you're gonna see me. You know you're gonna see me, don't you?" Charlie said as Ron's body began to slump in his arms again.

"Ron," Hermione said as she shuffled closer, "tell us what you need that you don't feel like you can have."

Ron made a pathetically meek sounding noise at the back of his throat and shifted on Charlie's lap.

"It's me and Charlie here. There's nobody else. There's just the three of us in a wide, open white space and nobody can see us or hear us. There's nobody watching us. What do you need from us, Ron?"

"Slee..." Ron sighed lazily.

"Sleep?" Hermione clarified.

Ron drew in a huge breath and went completely limp in his brother's arms.

"No," Hermione panicked, "I didn't mean that as a command!"

Charlie frowned and shrugged.

"Probably enough for his first time though, eh?"

Hermione nodded sadly. Charlie got up out of the chair, cradling Ron like an infant giraffe, and nodded upwards.

"I'll take him upstairs and make sure he's settled. You warn Harry he'll be out of it when he goes to bed, okay?"

* * *

"So do you remember where we were when we got to this point last time, Ron?" Hermione asked as she let Ron's heavy body recline against her, his back crushing her breasts and his head lolling back over her shoulder. 

She turned her head and could only see his prominent Adam's apple beside her. Ron was breathing calmly and hadn't been scared when she whispered into the side of his face. Ginny had asked to be involved this time and Charlie was down the hall making sure his mother didn't interrupt them with an offer of hot chocolate.

Ginny had taken off Ron's shoes, speaking to him in the same way Hermione was, reassuring him it was only her touching him and nobody else. She removed his socks with a vow that he could trust her at all times. She ran her hands up his legs to settle upon his knees and told him he could open his eyes whenever he wanted to and see her there.

"It's really me, Ron. These are my hands and I would never hurt you with them," Ginny said with a sincere expression on her face, wasted on her brother's closed eyes.

"Neither of us will touch you if you tell us you don't like it," Hermione said, her hand lifting so her fingers could play idly with his hair.

Ron's head still lolled over her shoulder and his breaths remained even and slow.

Ginny glanced up at Hermione worriedly and slid her hands one more inch past Ron's knees so they rested on the lower part of his thighs. They both knew that they hadn't done enough work to get Ron comfortable with even the suggestion of hands above the knee and below the waist. Hermione shook her head and Ginny lowered her hands again and rubbed up and down his calf muscles.

"It's okay, Ron, you can relax now. You can go to sleep if you want to." Hermione said as she turned her head and kissed his cheek gently. "Just tell me what you need from me."

"Slee'wme," Ron slurred throatily.

"What?" Hermione frowned as she cocked her head to listen more closely.

"C'mabed wi'me." Ron said, sounding as if he was already too far gone in the land of nod to communicate any further.

Hermione looked at Ginny sadly. Ginny gave her a smile that seemed to say '_See, he still wants you like that'_, but Hermione knew that Ron missing a physical relationship wasn't anything like Ron being able to handle a physical relationship.

Hermione tightened her arms around Ron's waist and hugged him. Her whole lap was numb beneath his weight but she didn't care.

"Ginny, would you go and get Charlie?" she asked her friend. "I think it's better if Charlie carries him to bed rather than we float him, the loss of contact might upset him."

Ginny suddenly got that determined, '_I know better than you' _look Hermione dreaded so much and sat up on her haunches to speak clearly to Ron.

"Ron, it's Ginny. You can drift off for the night in a second, okay? First, you have to speak clearly for Hermione. You have to make her understand what you want her to do because she'll do it. She loves you, Ron."

Hermione's lip wobbled embarrassingly so she clamped it still between her teeth.

"Tell her what you want," Ginny demanded.

Of course, his bossy little sister could penetrate the deepest level of relaxation and stir Ron's mind back into some sort of focus.

"Don'wanna slee by m'self," Ron mumbled into Hermione's neck and he turned his head and his whole body to curl into her side. "Lay wi'me."

Ginny beamed at Hermione and Hermione burst into tears and held Ron close.

"I'll go and tell Charlie to flex his muscles," Ginny said smugly. "It looks like he's lugging you both to bed tonight!"

* * *

_A/N waves to all the people who get the Bairstow Eves reference It's such a great Potterverse name!_


	12. Priorities

**Priorities**

Harry wandered into the kitchen at The Burrow and stopped dead at the sight of mother and daughter hugging and sniffing into each others shoulders. His first thought was that something awful had happened to Ron and stepped forward in a panic.

"What is it? What's happened now?"

Ginny pulled away from her mother and wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm. Mrs Weasley dabbed at her face with her apron and set about fussing with the tea pot while the kettle boiled on the stove.

"Harry," Ginny forced a smile onto her face and reached out for his hand, "come with me in the garden for a bit. I need to talk to you about something."

Harry was filled with dread as he took her hand and followed her outside. They sat down on the small garden wall outside The Burrow and Ginny avoided his eyes and bit her lip.

"Gin, what is it? Please, this is really worrying me."

"Did you ever wonder where we'd be if Ron never got taken?" Ginny said, staring at their hands in her lap.

"What?" Harry blinked,."Well, yes, of course. I wish things were different every day."

"Of course," Ginny nodded, "nobody wants any of this for all of us, but I know my brother and I know he doesn't want everybody's life to stop because he has things he needs to deal with before he can carry on with his."

Harry swallowed and stared at Ginny fiercely. He always knew that Ron and Ginny had a volatile relationship ever since hormones had kicked in and made them snappy with each other rather than the best friends in the whole world like they used to be. If Ginny was about to start blaming Ron for things not going her way, then he was going to have something to say about that.

"Ron's whole problem is that he's trying not to burden us, Ginny. If you go and tell him he is th-"

"This isn't about, Ron," Ginny interrupted, "this is about _you!_"

"What?" Harry gaped.

"When Ron's around, it's as if I'm not and when he's not around your mind's elsewhere and not with me at all," Ginny said sadly.

"Ginny, he just had a fit because somebody stood next to him in the toilet," Harry said in disbelief at how hard Ron's little sister could be towards him when he needed support the most. "He needs us to persuade him to get some help."

Ginny laughed bitterly and shook her head.

"I helped Hermione with him last night," Ginny said as she stared off, out across the open field. "He feels so safe with her. He trusts her so completely. He's kissed her and held her and spent the night with her."

Harry nodded.

"I know all this, Gin. What are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, Harry Potter, is that since Ron got home he has been battling with himself so he can be close to Hermione. He's been working so hard and they've become even closer then they ever were. They spent the night in his bed hugging each other, Harry!"

"You're angry at this because...?" Harry blinked incomprehensively.

"I'm angry at _you_ because we haven't snogged each other since Ron came home and when Hermione stayed in your bed you went downstairs onto the sofa rather than coming to me and...and..." Ginny huffed and slapped her palms onto her thighs and stood up to pace forward a few steps. "Ron and Hermione started off in a place where she might never have been able to be his girlfriend at all and now they are ten times what we are and nobody tried to rape you!"

Her words echoed across the field and Harry reeled in stunned silence.

"If Ron had never been taken, I would have moved out and gone to live with Luna in her little flat, girls having fun and being free from Mum and her fussing, and we'd have a place we could be together away from all the Weasley eyes but I didn't go because I didn't want to abandon Ron after everything that happened."

"So you want me to take you out, is that it?" Harry frowned, standing up cautiously and pondering how wise it would be to take a step closer to her.

"You're worse than Ron," Ginny laughed weakly. "No, you're worse than he used to be. Right now, Ron is completely dedicated to Hermione and you're completely dedicated to Ron and I'm just...washing dishes with Mum."

"You're jealous of your brother?" Harry said, feeling the anger rise within him. "You're jealous of Ron getting all the attention?"

"I'm jealous of Hermione, Harry!" Ginny yelled as she spun around, red in the face. "I'm jealous of her having somebody love her and need her like that. She has somebody who _wants_ her."

"I want you!" Harry barked defensively.

"You barely even notice me anymore!" Ginny flailed her arm around her as she ranted at her neglectful boyfriend.

"My best friend needs to know I'm not ashamed of him and that I still want to hang around with him like we used to. I don't want him to think I'm handing him over to Lee while I run around having the time of my life with his sister."

"Ron has Hermione, Ron has Charlie, he's got Mum and Dad and even Percy – he has so many people he's probably craving to be left alone for two seconds. You can spend half an hour to sit with me and have a cuddle or go into the village for tea and cream buns. There's room for more than one Weasley in your life, Harry."

"It might have escaped your attention, Ginny, but your whole family have been trying to get Lee and Ron less dependant on each other and it's not fair to just transfer all Ron's needs onto Hermione. It's not fair to her or to him."

"I know that!" Ginny screeched before grabbing handfuls of her hair in frustration. "Will you stop thinking about your friends for one minute and think about your girlfriend."

"Okay, you want me to take you out for an éclair? I'll take you out for an éclair. I'll buy an éclair factory for you!" Harry said animatedly.

"Oh, Potter, you really are driving me batty!" Ginny growled, "Am I your girlfriend or your _ex_-girlfriend?"

"You're my girlfriend."

"Are we splitting up or not?"

"Not."

"Are you going to kiss me or fight with me?"

Harry blinked and then lunged forward to push Ginny slightly back in his arms while he devoured her mouth hungrily. Hands mussed up hair and tongues duelled inside mouths. Soon enough balance was lost that they stumbled over and onto the grass hard.

"Ooof!"

Ginny giggled and Harry groaned as his wand handle poked him in the side.

"Well, that was romantic," Ginny chuckled. "Oh no wait...it wasn't!"

"Oh, shut up and roll me off you so I can remove my wand from my person."

"I thought _I_ was your person," Ginny smiled as she rolled him off her.

Harry pulled the tip of his wand out from underneath his ribcage and slumped on his back beside Ginny.

"So what made your Mum all cuddly and sniffley then?" Harry asked, staring up at the clouds.

"I told her I was moving out," Ginny answered with a deep sigh.

Harry propped himself up o his elbows immediately.

"You what?"

"I'm going to move in with Luna like we planned."

"But...but..." Harry's jaw flapped loosely.

"I've spoken to Ron and he knows he can come to me at any time. I've said to Hermione I'd like to help out with the relaxation stuff but...Ron's a dead weight when he goes and Charlie's really better for dealing with him when he's like that."

"You could…" Harry's eyes searched thin air desperately. "Yyou could help him with his speech therapy."

"I tried that, remember?" Ginny sighed wearily and picked a patch of grass beside her bald. "I don't have the patience you and Lee do with his stutter. I keep finishing his sentences and it just winds him up and makes him stutter more."

"Well, what about...?"

"Harry, me and Ron are like a moth and a flame ever since I became a woman rather than a tomboy. We want to be close but we can't do it without one of us getting burnt."

"He loves you," Harry said sadly, "he needs you. Why do you think you get under each other's skin so much?"

"I love him, too, and I'll rip a new arsehole to any of those gits who say nasty things about him but we're not seven and eight any more," Ginny said as her shoulders fell. "We get along better when we're out of each other's hair."

"Okay then, what about me?" Harry said defensively.

"They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?" Ginny smiled and peered up at Harry through her fringe. "Maybe a bit of absence is what you need, eh?"

Harry hugged her and realised that she was right. If she was here, he would take her for granted and not make the effort to be with her. While she was there she was invisible. Maybe if she was in her own space they could get back on track apart from the family and what they were going through.

He was glad it hadn't come to an ultimatum. He was grateful he never had to choose between Ron and Ginny. In his heart, he knew who he needed in his life more. They broke their hug and Harry kissed the tip of Ginny's nose and held her face in his hands.

"I'll help you move your stuff," he said softly.

An owl swooped overhead with a red envelope tied to its leg, a Howler. Harry's stomach turned over.

"Quick, before it goes off." Ginny said as she let him go.

Harry broke away from her and hesitated before running off to intercept the owl.

"I'll be back in a sec. I just have to keep it from..."

"Go!" Ginny said as she waved him onward.

Harry sprinted into the kitchen and pulled the red envelope, almost taking the startled owl with it, before running back out of the house and hurtling into the open space of the surrounding fields. He pictured a clearing in the woods some way away and Disapparated. Just as he staggered over a tree root and hit the ground the Howler went off.

'_You belong in an asylum, you warped freak! You can't be trusted around civilised people, no better than a werewolf you are. You've tasted flesh and you should be locked up. If I had a dog that did what you did, the authorities would make me put it to sleep. You bring shame to your good family you sick, cowardly soddomi-'_

Harry blasted the Howler repeatedly and then stamped on it until it was in shreds on the ground. He grunted and cursed and ignited the remains with his wand angrily.

"You ignorant fucking people!" Harry snarled. "He went through all that to keep those murderers in prison where they belong. You don't fucking deserve your freedom if that's how you treat the person who earned it for you!"

Harry was panting and sweating as he calmed himself down and kicked at the crumpled mound of ash and soil.

"He's more human than you'll ever be," Harry said, scowling at the charred spot on the forest floor. "Why can't you just leave him alone?"

He swallowed and wiped his sweaty face with the back of his hand before remembering what he had been doing before and Apparating back to the spot he'd left Ginny. As the world stopped constricting around him and the back garden of The Burrow came back into focus, he looked around but didn't see her.

"Ginny?" he called out, putting his wand away.

There was no sign of her. He wondered if maybe she'd gone inside to gather her things ready for the move and that was when he saw the note pinned to the back gate. He walked over to it and ripped it off to read, shoulders falling along with his heart.

_Harry,_

_I've already shrunk everything down and Luna will help me settle in. _

_See you at Sunday dinner with the family._

_Please fetch me if anything happens with Ron._

_Its okay, Harry, I know he has to come first. He's never been first with anyone before, not until he met you and Hermione, and I'm not going to take you away from him now._

_Take care of each other._

_Ginny_

Harry sighed and looked to the clouds.

"Bollocks."

* * *

"Beer?" Fergus offered Tommy as he sat down.

"No, I'm fine thanks," Tommy said with a shake of the head and a distracted smile. "Nice pictures."

Fergus glanced over his shoulder and the large Hammers team photograph and all the smaller framed pictures of their other lost comrades cluttering the mantelpiece.

"Yeah, well it's better to remember 'em the way yeh want to rather than..." Fergus looked away and back to Tommy. "Firewhisky?"

"No, really I'm fine, way too early for me Fergus," Tommy said as he held his hands out before himself.

"I could Finnigan-up a coffee for yeh if ya like?" Fergus offered as he made a move towards the kitchen.

"Fergus, sit down," Tommy said, frowning.

Fergus looked defensive, as if expecting another lecture about drinking too much, but lowered himself into the armchair at a right-angle to the sofa where Tommy sat.

"I'm sittin', so what d'yeh wanna say?"

"I wanted to ask you if you still had any of your old school books," Tommy said coolly.

Fergus blinked and sat back in shock before turning to look at one of the boxes he hadn't unpacked yet and waving towards it.

"I've got most of 'em in there, battered though, why?"

"Well, Cally's kids are still in school and I spoke to Chiara and she said Patrick, Cally's oldest boy…" Fergus nodded, knowing how Patrick Callahan was now raising his siblings in place of their dead mother and father along with his girlfriend Chiara, Auror Maccario's fiancée. "He's really stretching the Hogwarts fund to get all the kids their stuff this year."

"Are they all at school?" Fergus said, sitting forward again.

"This year they are," Tommy nodded. "The youngest is starting his first year and needs everything from scratch. I've offered my cauldron and glass phials and some other equipment. My scales are broken, so I'll have to see about..."

"Shay still has his scales. I've seen 'em sometime durin' the move, they've got burn marks on 'em but they still weigh properly," Fergus said enthusiastically. "What else ye short on?"

"School robes," Tommy said with a sigh. "Cally's kids are all quite small and the youngest is like...well like Colin shrunk in the wash! Hand me downs won't be any good so Patrick's using most of the fund money for their clothes."

"Does the Ministry not..." Fergus began thoughtfully. "You got offered money from the Ministry, too, right?"

"Yeah, their war veterans foundation thing," Tommy nodded. "I've already told them to sign mine over to Cally's family."

Tommy looked a little troubled at this and stared down at his feet.

"Money troubles yerself, eh?" Fergus asked.

"Well...I didn't know there were until I gave all my entitlement away and...well, she wouldn't take it anyway."

Fergus got up from his chair and fixed Tommy with a determined stare.

"Are yeh sure ye won't have a drink, Tom?"

"Maybe one," Tommy conceded with a smile. "Milk with two sugars, please, Fergus."

"Tea?" Fergus blinked.

"You put milk and sugar in pumpkin juice, do ya?" Tommy grinned.

Fergus gave a tut and rolled his eyes before stepping over a box and into the kitchen.

"Ye know wha, Painter? I'll even set it on a saucer with a pair of bourbons for ya."

"You're talking about the chocolaty biscuits and not the booze, right?" Tommy teased.

"Oh, of course," Fergus laughed, "what kind of person do you take me fer?"

Tommy grinned and watched the Irishman go before turning back to look around the living room of Fergus' new place. He called through to the kitchen as he gazed along the mantelpiece of familiar faces looking back at him. He didn't think he'd be able to live with all those ghosts watching him all the time.

"So house stuff, Hogwarts things, I mean," Tommy clarified. "None of my robes are suitable. I wasn't sorted, wasn't on an official Quidditch team, didn't..."

"Tom?" Fergus said as he leaned back round the door and frowned at his distant friend.

"Sorry," Tommy shook his head, "just zoned out for a sec there. Anyway, Cally's got kids in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and both Lee and Ron were in Gryffindor, weren't they?"

"Me an' Shay, too," Fergus said. "Scarves shouldn't cost too much though, eh?"

"Nah," Tommy shook his head. "Dennis Creevey said he was giving Colin's broom to Cally's girl, she's a Beater, and Dennis reckons Colin never really flew it. Apparently, he bought it because he always wanted one and then realised he didn't really like flying!"

"Sounds like Col," Fergus snorted, "enthusiasm over logic every time."

As Tommy chuckled, Fergus came in with a cup of tea and a packet of Bourbon biscuits dangling from his teeth.

"Cheers, Fergus," Tommy said as he took the mis-matched mug and saucer and set it down.

"So, they got pets, have they?" Fergus asked as he jogged back into the kitchen and came out with a mug that smelled very strongly of rum.

"Yeah, they already had animals but I'm gonna try to get them an owl to share so they can stay in touch with Patrick at home."

"The school have owls, yeh know?" Fergus said as he slurped his doctored tea and set it down.

"Yeah but school owls are far away in the Owlery, aren't they? Whereas pet owls stay in the dormitories. They can write in the evenings from their common rooms."

"S'a good idea, Tom," Fergus nodded. "I just moved in here though so I have teh get an owl of me own as well. I can chip in with ya though, pay part of it."

Tommy sighed and nodded.

"Well, that's the thing, I really can't afford one by myself so it really would help. I'll ask Lee, too."

"What about Ron?" Fergus asked warily.

"Well...Ron's not got much and he wouldn't touch the veterans fund money. I know his potions and treatments are putting a strain on his family as well. I really don't want to talk money to him, I know...well, I can imagine how he feels to be a financial strain to a family living on a shoestring."

"Well, me Ma did say the Ministry were playing fer a lot of Ron's treatment on the sly but don't say anything to him, y'hear?" Fergus warned as he reached for his tea again.

"'Course not."

The two of them sat and drank in peace for a while before Fergus sat back and heaved a deep, sad sigh.

"When we promised to see those young'uns right I hoped, I really did think there'd be more of us te be doin' it."

"Yeah," Tommy nodded.

* * *

"So are we moving on from the cards yet?" Lee asked as he took a seat in Ron's bedroom with Harry watching over him moodily from his bed.

Ron pulled a chair out from his cluttered desk and set it in front of Lee, sitting down and looking nervously from Harry to Lee.

"Well, my speech therapist said I was doing really well and he spoke to Hermione about the relaxation techniques she's been trying and thinks we can stop with the flash cards and push it a bit more."

Lee frowned.

"Push it how?"

Harry made a huffing sound and rolled over on top of his bed to face the wall. Lee threw a defensive look his way and then turned back to Ron and mouthed, '_What's his problem?_'

Ron leaned in close and whispered.

"I think him and Ginny just broke up."

"We did not!" Harry snapped as he sat up and glowered at the two of them.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when my little sister comes to me to tell me she's moving out and goes on and on about how '_none of this is my fault'_?" Ron demanded.

"She left so we had some space to conduct a normal healthy relationship if you must know," Harry said defiantly.

Ron's eyebrows rose and he waited for a moment to see if Harry had anything else to say before clearing his throat and turning to face Lee again.

"Ignore him, he had to get rid of another Howler," Ron explained before taking a deep breath and straightening his back. "So pushing it is basically..."

"I'm not in a mood because of Ginny and I'm not in a mood because of the Howler," Harry said as he swung his legs off the bed and let them dangle over the side.

"So why _are_ you in a mood?" Ron asked, folding his arms and sitting right back in his chair, in preparation for a rant.

"I am _not_ in a _mood_!" Harry growled stubbornly.

"Would you rather help Ron with his speech therapy today, Harry? Is that it?" Lee asked, looking deeply dejected.

"This is my room and I can slouch around keeping to myself if I want to, can't I?" Harry said with a fierce look at Lee as if challenging him to lay it all on the line and have a fist fight for the post of Ron's closest friend.

"This is Ron's room, if I recall the nameplate on the door correctly," Lee said as he made a move to rise from his seat.

Ron grabbed him about the shoulders and pushed him down securely.

"Mum's coo-cooking in the kitchen and Charlie's got his head in the Floo trying to take m-more time off work. We have to do it up here."

"Great speech therapy there, Lee," Harry muttered. "You've gone and made him worse."

"Oh go and ha-have a wank in the bathroom, you horny bastard, and stop taking it out on Lee!" Ron huffed grumpily.

Harry's eyes bulged and he gaped at his best friend. Lee almost laughed but was too shocked to do so. Ron rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat again.

"So the theory was to push me to hold my speech together during circ-circumstances that set off the stut-us-uster...on well, now I can't bloody talk at all!" Ron huffed in annoyance.

Lee laughed out loud and Harry smirked.

"Y'mean circumstances like your two best mates at each others throats when you're trying to explain something to them?" Harry asked, looking amused yet slightly ashamed of himself.

"Well, the list was stress, distraction, being in a hurry or having a conversation while in the middle of something else...I think the speech therapist _might_ have mentioned me getting involved in arguments as a peacemaker, so I learn to separate emotion from articulation, whatever the hell that means." Ron waved his hand dismissively and shrugged.

"Whatever it means, it seems to have worked," Lee said, impressed. "You said that whole thing without a stumble."

Ron gave a lopsided smile and a one-shouldered shrug modestly.

"Well, I knew putting you both in the same room when one of you was in a pissy mood would definitely give me an argument to moderate."

Harry threw his pillow at Ron's head and Lee called him a git before laughing even louder.


	13. Closer Yet Farther Away

_A/N Okay, so I've never done this before on It's all over my Live Journal fic account but not here!_

_If strong sexual content and sexual language isn't your thing then close this window and wait for the next update alert._

_Feedback would be appreciated because the readers here on ff dot net, or rather MY readers here on ff dot net, are a different breed and I really respect your opinion when I try something new on this site._

**Closer Yet So Much Farther Away**

Ron stepped out of the shower and wiped a space on the mirror clean. He looked at himself, his blurry image, and then looked down at his groin.

He couldn't understand why he had been the target, why he had been the one to conquer-–to violate. He closed his eyes and thought of Hermione standing before him naked and let his hand slide down his slippery body to his dick. The tap dripped, the steam rose, and he began to rub.

He leaned forward against the bathroom wall and braced himself for his very first, post captivity, wank.

He felt clean. He felt hot and wet and the air was thick and moist. The tap kept on dripping, drip...drip...drip, and soon Ron was stroking his cock in time to the leaking tap. It was The Burrow. It was the place that was falling apart, toppling over, every tap dripped and he was home and he was safe and he was...he was...he was hard.

"Oh come on," Ron breathed softly, "c'mon...c'mon...c'mon..."

His breathing picked up pace and he began to rub himself into his palm. His hand slipped down the slippery wall, fingers bending and clawing for purchase, and his knees began to buckle as he got swept up in the moment. He saw his Hermione naked. She was watching him and smiling at him and she was never going to hurt him, she looked beautiful and sexy and kind.

"Oh, please, yes c'mon!" Ron whimpered as he pumped his fist faster.

Drip...drip...drip...

He could smell her, he could taste her, he could feel her holding him and telling him everything was alright.

'_It's me touching you, only me, always me and I'd never hurt you. I love you_'

Ron gasped and jerked his hips into his hand. He bit his bottom lip and slumped over the sink as he lost his purchase on the condensation drenched wall.

"Hermynee...Hermi...Her...H-H-H-H-"

"Ron, are you okay in there?" He heard his girlfriend's voice calling through the locked door worriedly.

"Mmmmmm," Ron nodded and moaned his affirmative answer as he threw his head back.

"You sound breathless, are you having a panic attack?"

"Uh-uhhh!" Ron panted and tried to calm his breathing.

"Ron, why aren't you saying anything?" Hermione asked, trying the door handle and finding the door locked. "Let me in. Please, open the door for me, Ron."

"'N a sec!" Ron hissed as his orgasm gripped him and he gritted his teeth and struggled with all his might to come as quietly as he could.

Ron gave a muffled grunt through his nose and banged his pelvis against the sink as he thrust hard and ejaculated with tremendous gusto. It felt as if he was pushing his teeth right into his gums with the force he was clamping his jaw shut and shuddered as the spurts came. His eyes rolled and he fell sideways onto the edge of the bath tub, feeling as if he could sleep for several weeks now.

"Charlie!" He heard Hermione calling out in a panic, "Charlie, please, the unlocking charm won't work on your bathroom door and Ron's hyperventilating in there!"

Ron was breathing heavily and knew he needed to reassure them both he was fine but he was still lost to his post-orgasm haze. He swallowed and fidgeted and just about managed to wrap his bath towel around his waist again. He mopped up his spunk with a flannel and threw it behind the toilet. Just as he sank down to the floor and leaned back against the side of the bath tub Charlie shouldered the door open.

Ron's sleepy eyes looked up at his worried brother and he grinned. Charlie blinked, his face dropped in realisation and he spun on the spot to shove a frantic Hermione back out and close the door behind them both.

"He's fine!" Charlie said rather too loudly.

"What? But how can you know that so fast? Charlie, he was on the floor!" Hermione was flustered and annoyed, or so it sounded to Ron, and struggling with Charlie. "Let me in there this minute!"

Ron shook his head to clear it and puffed out his cheeks with an exhalation of relief before getting up and straightening his towel around his waist. He reached for the handle and pulled the door, slightly splintered at the frame from Charlie's forced entry, open.

"I'm okay, Hermione," Ron smiled and nodded before passing Charlie and giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks for that."

"No problem, runt," Charlie grinned wickedly. "Good to see you getting back to your old self."

"Oh, shut up!" Ron muttered as he grabbed Hermione by the elbow and pulled her along the landing and up the crooked stairs to his room.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on?" Hermione huffed.

"Look, I'm _fine!_ Stop making a fuss and come upstairs, will you?" Ron said under his breath.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Charlie said with a shit-eating grin, "I'm sure Ron's going to explain absolutely _everything_ to you when you're alone...I'll just go and tell Harry to give you five minutes, or do you think you'll need longer, runt?"

"You're funny," Ron scowled playfully over his shoulder. "Make sure you fix that door before Mum sees it."

Ron pulled Hermione to his bedroom and closed the door behind them. She was staring at him as if he'd gone back in time and swapped places with his old self. Ron liked that; he liked suddenly feeling and acting normal, but Hermione was still fretting over him.

"Ron, what happened?" she asked as she pulled him by the hands over to his bed and the two of them perched on the edge.

Ron squirmed his hands free with an apologetic wince and Hermione released him as if an electric current had just passed through them both.

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" She said as she put a considerable space between them both.

Ron smiled and rolled his eyes as he hitched up his towel and got comfortable before taking back her hand and lowering his head to force her to meet his eyes.

"I'm not upset about anything, it's just a bit embarrassing and my towel was falling down an--"

"What's embarrassing?" Hermione asked as she squeezed his hand and shuffled closer again. "Let your towel drop if you like, we've passed that point already, Ron."

"Yeah, I know," Ron nodded and began to blush, "but I just passed another point and it wasn't really something you could...share."

Hermione looked hurt once again. Ron realised he was making a mess of this and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her hair ticking his skin and her soft hands pressing against his back.

"Hermione..." Ron pulled back to look her in the eye, ears pinking by the second. "...I...I got...I had a..."

"You can tell me anything," she whispered.

"It doesn't mean you want to hear everything," Ron snorted. "I mean you could tell me about your woman's doings," Ron pointed vaguely at Hermione's lap, "but I'd rather you didn't!"

"Woman's doings?" Hermione laughed. "My menstrual cycle is '_woman's doings'_?"

"Well, let's not make it worse, okay?" Ron huffed and felt the pink in his ears turning red now. "Just let's leave it as...I had a small 'sexual awakening' in the bathroom."

Hermione's jaw dropped open so far it alarmed him as she gasped and stared down at his towel-clad lap.

"Well, it's over now!" Ron said as he tugged at the towel and crossed his legs uncomfortably.

"So you," Hermione said, all a quiver, "you were okay with that then?"

Ron squirmed awkwardly and looked out the bedroom window at the night's sky.

"Well, it's always better to go without one of my brothers coming in but...yeah, I'm okay with it. I mean, it felt nice."

Hermione was gradually smiling at him now and he made himself look at her properly.

"Ron, this is...I'm so happy for you!"

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You _are?"_

"Of course I am."

"But...Bill said Fleur went mental when she caught him wanking."

Hermione's confidence seemed suddenly displaced before she blinked a few times and shook her head clear.

"Well. why would he need to if she was right there?" Hermione asked with curiosity rather than judgement.

"That's exactly what _she_ said," Ron said in amazement, "only in a French accent!"

Hermione laughed and threw her arms around him. He laughed, not quite sure what was funny from her point of view, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her to his, now dry, bare chest and lost his fingers in her mass of hair.

"Well, you know," Hermione began, pausing to breathe in his scent, "I actually meant I was happy for you because you had a positive sexual experience. You could let yourself go like that and not...you weren't...it wasn't..."

"He wasn't there," Ron said, knowing exactly what she was trying to say without having to say it.

"He wasn't there," Hermione echoed contentedly.

Ron loosened his hold on her and leaned back to look into her face.

"Are you staying again tonight?"

Hermione's lips curled into a wicked smile as she responded.

"And why exactly are you asking me that, Mr Weasley?"

"Mr Weasley isn't asking you," Ron scoffed. "_Mrs _Weasley would kill him!"

"Well, as enticing as it sounds, I think you should take this new sexual awakening of yours one step at a time, don't you?" Hermione sighed.

"I didn't mean stay to shag, I meant--"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed at her boyfriend's choice of words.

"I meant stay to...to..." Ron was waving his hand vaguely as if willing her to catch up with him.

"You want company in bed again?" she asked him with a tilt of the head and a sympathetic frown.

"No," Ron said firmly, "I want _you_ in bed with me."

Hermione sighed deeply and moved towards Ron, taking his hand and pulling him over to his bed. They both sat down on the edge and started at each other, hands still clasped.

"I don't think your mum approves of my overnight stays becoming a regular thing, Ron."

"L-Let her try and stop you!" Ron said defiantly.

"I spoke to my mum too and she's worried abou-"

"Well, tell her to stop worrying! I'm sick of everybody worrying. What does it do? What does it change? How does it help me?" Ron said, brow furrowed and shoulders growing tense.

"She's worried about _me_," Hermione finished her original sentence.

Ron blinked and found himself lost for words. Did Mrs Granger think he was going to hit Hermione like he'd hit Harry so many times before? He wasn't sleeping nearly as badly since Hermione and Charlie had been running the relaxation exercises every night. He liked her warmth in his bed and the smell of her all around him and he loved waking up in the morning and seeing the light spilling into the room and illuminating her like an angel.

Because that's what she was--his guardian angel.

If he was alone in his bed, he was alone in his dreams, his nightmares, and there was nothing and nobody to cling to. He wasn't snuggled up with Tommy in his improvised hammock. He wasn't lying with Lee to share warmth. He wasn't surrounded by Fergus, Dean and Colin in a dark hole in the ground and tangled in arms and legs as they all tried to share the small space to sleep. He wasn't lying on his bed, he was laying on a table. He wasn't tangled in the sheets, he was suspended from the ceiling in agony. He wasn't in a place he could survive while not able to die, just like when he was being held underwater but kept from drowning by Cally's protection spell.

If he didn't smell Hermione scent in his sleep, he would smell those cells. He would smell stale urine and faeces and dried puke and fresh blood. He'd smell sweat and grime and damp and filth. He'd smell that vile breath against the side of his face. He'd smell Danny Prang. He'd smell Danny Prang in the same way anyone else would smell chicken or bacon.

If she wasn't there when he woke up, it would be just as bad as all those other times he woke up to find that somebody was gone, never to come back again. He woke up from his one-sided duel with the Puppet Master to call out a word of thanks to Cally for saving his life with the emergency treatment...only to be told that Cally wasn't there to be thanked. Cally had been executed as soon as the last healing spell had been absorbed into Ron's weakened body.

"Ron?" Hermione stroked his fringe away from his eyes and lowered her head to peer up into his downcast face.

He blinked and shook his head to come back into the room where Hermione had obviously been waiting for an answer from him.

"I'm...H-Harry...y-yo-you don't ha-ave to...'s fine I c-can jus-" Ron felt as if he had a dozen different thoughts all trying to vocalise themselves in the one sentence.

Hermione cupped his face with both hands and looked pained.

"See this is what I've done to you!" she said as if she was a fraction away from dissolving into tears. "This is what my mother warned me could happen. She told me I shouldn't let you associate me with your improvement otherwise you'd go right back to square one as soon as I'm taken out of the equation."

"But I don't wa-wan-want you out of the equation!" Ron said desperately.

"You've replaced Lee with me and I can't let that happen, Ron." Hermione said with determination.

"I don't wanna hold Lee like I do y-you!" Ron said, his throat drying as he spoke.

Hermione looked at him desperately before drawing in a shuddering breath and speaking to him as if doing so pained her greatly.

"I think you should make an appointment and start seeing Madam Boo instead of having me settle you every night with Charlie."

"No," Ron said shaking his head, eyes wide and pleading her to understand that having some strange woman digging around inside his head was going to make things even worse for him.

"I'll calm you down for tonight and we'll go to St Mungo's together tomorrow, okay?"

"No!" Ron said again, feeling as if the bedroom was suddenly much smaller than he remembered.

"You don't have to see her if you don't want to," Hermione said, hands fussing with his t-shirt and stroking up and down his arms in a nervous gesture of reassurance. "But you should know I can't cope with this on my own and I'm going to stop doing it after tonight."

Ron got up from the bed and shook off her touch.

"If you don't w-wanna sleep with me then that's fine! Nobody's making you do it. No-nobody's going to think any less of you for not wanting to b-be my girlfriend anymore so ju-just _say it_!"

"I love you, Ronald Weasley," she said fiercely.

"And what if I'm not him anymore?" Ron yelled, shocking himself slightly. "What if I'm a different Ronald Weasley who you don't like?"

"I. Love. You," Hermione stated with unshakeable conviction.

"M-Maybe you and him have something in common then, eh?" Ron heard himself saying with a shrug.

Hermione launched herself forward at him and gripped his shoulders firmly.

"He did _not_ love you," she said darkly. "He was suffering from a sick perverted obsession and I don't want you ever to confuse anybody's feelings for you with that...that abomination of a man!"

"Why is the only way for me to get better to have everybody leave me?" Ron said bitterly. "They take Lee away, they take Harry away, they take Ginny away, and now you."

"Who's '_they_,' Ron? Nobody's taken anyone from you." Hermione looked stricken and pale as she gazed up at him.

"Everybody!" Ron said running his hands roughly over his face and through his hair. "Everybody keeps giving me space while wanting to be touched while wanting me to talk while not wanting me to talk to them but to a specialist at St Mungo's and it's driving me fucking insane!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, hand over her mouth.

Footsteps thundered on the stairs and soon Harry was skidding on the rug and into the bedroom.

"What's wrong? Why's he shouting?"

"I'm _here,_ ask _me!_" Ron bellowed.

"Calm down and tell me what's up, mate," Harry said with a wary smile as he approached with caution.

"Mate," Ron said blankly before laughing to himself, "still your mate, aren't I?"

"Of course you are," Harry said incredulously.

"Funny, I was b-beginning to think I was just the prize in the comp-p-petition you had going with Lee."

"Look, Lee's not an issue, you don't have to wor--" Harry began to explain himself but Ron wasn't up for reason at that moment.

"Lee's not around anymore and s-s-suddenly, neither are you. When you were all jealous of him you were following me all over the house and now he's being kept away I never see you."

"Ron, mate, I was trying not to crowd you. Everybody said..."

"And there's everybody again!" Ron said, waving his arms wildly and turning back to Hermione, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Y'know what? Every time I take a forward step and feel normal again somebody has to tap me on the shoulder and remind me I'm anything but and I'm sick of it!" Ron hissed angrily.

"You're not normal," Hermione said, with a look that seemed to indicate she'd surprised herself as much as Ron and Harry with that statement, "you're special. You're exceptional."

"I'm too unstable to sleep with," Ron whispered darkly.

"You're not," Harry said angrily, "and if you want somebody to sleep in your bed with you then fine, but you're wearing pyjamas and no snogging."

Ron was bemused for a second or two before Harry pulled back the bed sheets and climbed into Ron's bed.

"Are you taking the p-pi-piss?" Ron boggled.

"You want to feel safe in your bed, I won't hurt you. You want to feel closer to me, we'll be right next to each other. You want to rant and rave at the shitty hand you've been dealt, then go ahead but give Hermione a break. She loves you."

Ron stared at Harry and pressed his lips together tightly. He was thinking and breathing and his hands were balled into fists while his heart and head pounded with the same rhythm.

"I love you so much, Ron," Hermione said from behind him.

Ron drew in a shuddering breath and turned around on the spot. He walked past Hermione without even looking at her and straight out the door. He strode along the landing and down the small, wonky flight of stairs before slowing his pace as he neared the second room on the left, his parents' room.

"Ronnie?" his mum said as she set her hairbrush down on the dressing table and got up to step towards him.

She was wearing her tatty, and slightly faded, peach dressing gown and her fluffy yellow slippers that looked like two dead Puffeskeins on her feet.

"Mu-Mum?" Ron said, feeling the weight of shame falling upon him for what he was about to do. "Can I...Can I sle-sleep in your bed tonight?"

His mother blinked and stared at him. He hadn't asked her that question since he was six-years-old. He felt humiliated and pathetic and sick in the head for wanting to feel that security he used to get as a child, the security of knowing if he was sleeping curled up into his mother's side then he was protected from everything.

She stepped towards him and took his hand with both hers.

"Of course you can, sunshine."

Ron suddenly broke and fell into her body. He crumpled and sniffed while she stroked his hair and swayed with him from side to side. It was the first genuine cuddle they'd shared since he'd been free and Ron felt the weight on his shoulders shift slightly as the silent tears dampened the shoulder of his mother's dressing gown.

"M'sorry," he said shakily.

"Don't be, just lie down with Mummy and get some sleep."


	14. Favours

**Favours**

Ron's eyelids fluttered open and he squinted in the bright morning light that shone through his bedroom window. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and let out his usual morning groan before turning to look across to Harry's bed to see if he was up.

Hermione was there.

Hermione was in Harry's bed, Harry was on the floor beside it, Charlie was sleeping sitting up in a chair in the corner and an Extendable Ear trailed along the bedroom floor and out the door. Ron blinked, shook his head and then looked again. It was all the same, the room really was full and there really was an eavesdropping device of his brothers' flopped out in the middle of the room.

Ron drew in a deep breath and rubbed his face roughly and tried to think back. He wondered if he'd had another seizure or something. Then it came back to him, his little flip out and his grizzling fit on his mother's shoulder. He'd gone to sleep in his parents' bed. Ron pushed back the covers and swung his legs down from the edge of the bed to set down on the warped floorboards.

He trod softly across the floor, following the thin pink snake of the Extendable Ear, crept through the open door and down the landing towards the stairs. He tiptoed down them, cringing at every creak and groan the old wood made as he went, until he reached the point where the Extendable Ear turned a corner and led him back to his mum and dad's room.

Frowning, Ron leaned in to see the shapeless lump that was his father sleeping heavily.

"You're up, Ronnie!" his mother said, making him jump and have to force his startled yelp back down his throat painfully. "I'm usually the early bird around here you know?"

"Mum?" Ron asked, wondering how long it had been since he had fallen asleep in her bed, in her arms.

"We did what we always used to do, sweetheart," she smiled and approached him slowly, lightly rubbing up and down his arm and her warm old eyes twinkling at him lovingly. "You would sleep in our bed, all squashed up into my side like a baby koala clinging to its mummy, and then when you were dead to the world your father would carry you back up to your bed so you could pretend it hadn't really happened when you woke up in the morning."

Ron's eyes bulged so much he feared he might have strained them.

"Dad didn't carry me last night, did he? Bloody hell, Mum, have you checked he's still alive?"

The tired looking woman chuckled and pulled Ron towards her for a loose hug of reassurance before moving her hand around to rub against his back as the two of them headed downstairs while they talked.

"We levitated you at first but you didn't seem to like that, you got a little restless, so I held you and Arthur levitated the both of us up the stairs to your room."

Ron was stunned at the trouble they'd gone to and then smiled at the image now in his head.

"So I really was a pain to sleep with eh? Sorry."

"Not at all," his mum said kindly, "you just...well there didn't used to be quite the arms and legs problem when you were little, Ronnie."

Ron chortled.

"Yeah, they did get a bit out of control didn't they?" he said as he waved his long arms before him for emphasis.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they paused and Ron's mother reached up to him to push his sticky up hair flat with little success.

"You look like a red-haired Harry in the mornings, did anyone ever tell you that?" she said wistfully before letting her hand slide down to cup his face.

"No, you're the first," Ron grinned before frowning thoughtfully and glancing up at the ceiling. "Hey, Mum, why are two extra people sleeping in my room and what's with the Extendable Ear?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you were still sleeping well after we left you in your bed and Hermione felt guilty about rejecting you, so she st-"

"She didn't reject me!" Ron blurted. "It was my fault, I got all..._me_ in the head about it and I was an arse."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with you about that, Ronnie," she said, looking more like her typical mothering self the more this conversation went on. "I really don't think it's appropriate for either of your reputations for her to be openly sleeping with you of a night."

"You'd rather she did it in secret?" Ron's mouth curled up into a mischievous grin.

"You know what I mean, Ronald Weasley," she huffed before taking his hand and dragging him along behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. "And Charlie was worried you might be disoriented waking up back in your bed when you fell asleep in mine."

"Fantastic job he did of reassuring me there." Ron nodded. "I must remember to thank him."

His mother laughed and Ron dropped himself down into a chair while she made them some tea and crumpets.

"He just needs to make sure you don't torment yourself, I think," she said as she kept herself busy, her back to him. "He's seen you at your strongest and your weakest and he hates to see you ignore your strengths and dwell on your weaknesses. He wants to be here to remind you of who you are and what you can do."

"So, who am I and what is that, then?" Ron asked, unsure he wanted the answer to that.

His mother turned around to smile at him over her shoulder.

"You are _nobody's_ plaything and you can be a master of whatever you choose."

* * *

Tommy sat and stared at the empty space where his father's piano had been and sighed.

"Tommy?" his mum called as she walked back into the living room from the kitchen to lean in at the open door. "What was that big weary sigh for love?"

Tommy looked back down at the contents of the trunk Lee had donated and ticked things off the list he held in his hand.

"Just finishing up with the little Callahan's school trunk. I'll shrink it down and owl it over to Hogwarts ready for the start of term."

"Are they expecting a shrunken trunk from you, then?" she asked, looking puzzled.

Tommy laughed and slumped back in his seat.

"I wrote to Professor McGonagall and explained to her what we were doing. She's going to store the trunks until they arrive and the youngest gets sorted into his house and then send them up to their rooms."

"You only have one trunk." Tommy's mum frowned down at the old wooden box with chipping varnish.

"I've shrunk one down already and Patrick gave his old one to his sister. The Weasleys have donated heaps of stuff and all the kids have everything covered now."

He turned his head to look up at his mother and she sat down beside him and took his hand with both hers.

"I think you've done wonders, Tommy. You've delivered on your promise to Cally with interest."

Tommy shrugged.

"Well, he saved my life and then kept me alive. I'd have died before I even knew I was taken prisoner if he hadn't been treating me."

"You've done a fine job of looking after those children," his mum said proudly, "and you've been magnificent taking care of your friends. You're giving Fergus a focus other than drink, you've helped Lee loosen his hold on Ron and as for Ron..."

"There's nothing anyone can do to help Ron," Tommy said with a firm shake of the head. "Ron needs to remember that the strong bloke who led by example and kept everybody's heads up isn't only there during the bad times."

"And I'm sure you've been doing all you can to remind him, love."

Tommy didn't have a response to that; he wasn't sure if he'd done too little or if he'd done anything of any good at all. He sighed and gazed back at the empty space his father's piano had left behind.

"What are you going to put there now?" he asked distantly.

"Well, I was thinking about getting one of those big fireplaces you can step into and connecting it to the Floo network thingymagig so I can pop over to Molly and Marie's places for a chat. You don't have to be magic to get it to work do you, Tommy?"

Tommy looked back at his mother and grinned.

"You are magic, Mum, and I think that'd be brilliant! I like your friends!"

Moody skewered another piece of processed paperwork on the large spike sticking out of the corner of his desk and his magical eye watched Ron step out of the lift and glance from side to side nervously before taking a deep breath and making his way along the corridor towards the old Auror's office.

Moody lifted his good leg and pushed out the chair opposite him, ready for the young Weasley's arrival. Just as the lad was about to knock on the open door, Moody waved at the chair as he tidied away the rest of the paperwork.

"Take a seat, Weasley."

"Oh, er...right." Ron said, slightly startled by the greeting.

"What can I do for you, boy? Did you have some memories left over you wanted me to destroy for you?"

"No," Ron shook his head and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, "no, I needed to talk to you about...wel,l you were in charge of all the arrests in Venlo, weren't you, sir?"

Moody fixed both his eyes on Ron and nodded.

"That I was."

Again, the discontent redhead squirmed in his seat. He took a slow breath in and out and his eyes flicked up to the ceiling as he thought about how to word what he needed to say.

"Take your time, boy, I'm not going anywhere," Moody said kindly.

Ron looked back at the Auror and smiled gratefully before that expression of constant worry crept back onto his face. The lad fussed with his hands for a moment before opening his mouth and stalling immediately.

"D'you-you-y-y..." Ron growled and his head dropped again, shoulders falling with it.

"It's alright, Weasley," Moody said as he pulled his chair right in towards the desk and leaned over it to speak in a confidential tone to the anxious wizard, "there's no hurry."

Ron took another deep breath in and closed his eyes. For the briefest of moments Moody could have sworn the boy was humming to himself. It was so quiet but it was definitely there. The tension seemed to seep away from the young wizard's body, just a little bit, and the emotive blue eyes lifted and fixed Moody's gaze once more.

"D'you remember the names of the Death Eaters you arrested?" Ron said hastily.

"I have all their names," Moody said, his magical eye rolling to look over his shoulder at the filing cabinet behind him while the other considered Ron carefully. "I remember most of their details from the sentencing. Why?"

Ron pressed his lips together for a moment and swallowed before clearing his throat and answering the Auror's question.

"So you can tell me wh-who...the name of...Y-you know which one is..."

"We never found out the Puppet Master's real name, Weasley," Moody said, darkly. "I'm sorry."

Ron's eyebrows scrunched together and he shook his head emphatically.

"Not him." The redheaded wizard fumbled in his back pocket for a scrap of paper and unfolded it to read a name. "Erbarmen, which one was ca-called Erbamen?"

"Erbarmen," Moody said with distaste as he sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his barrel of a chest, "is the one who's been writing to you."

Ron huffed and leaned further over the desk with impatience.

"I know that! Which one is he?"

Moody looked at Ron with concern.

"He's an insignificant little lackey and he's locked up where he can't do any more damage, Weasley." The Auror paused to try and grasp exactly what Ron wanted to know and why. "I am doing my level best to get those letters stopped and then you can forget he ever existed."

"Oh, can I?" Ron scoffed. "That's nice of you!"

"Weasley," Moody began, wondering if he was the right person to be talking to the lad about all this. "Erbarmen is trying to manipulate you and I don't know a single person who cares about you who will think this is a good idea."

"Which. One. Was he?" Ron said fiercely.

Moody actually flinched and reached for a scrap of paper beside him. He scribbled on it with a quill and hastily folded it into a paper plane.

"Maybe Tonks would be the better person to talk to y-"

"It's in there, right?" Ron said as he got to his feet and pointed to the filing cabinet behind Moody. "He's got a file in there with his picture, yeah?"

Ron set off around the side of the desk and instinctively Moody grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him backwards and back into his chair. Ron was pale and his breathing was shallow but his eyes remained determined as ever and he set his jaw with defiance as he glared at the older man.

"You're not authorised to g-"

"Get off me," Ron warned darkly.

"If you promise me you'll stay seated," Moody said, wishing with everything he had that somebody better equipped to deal with emotional people were to show up at that moment.

"Get your hands off me, _now!"_ Ron demanded.

"Will you stay calm?" Moody asked.

"If you let go," Ron snarled furiously.

Moody released him and took a step back. He watched Ron warily but the boy remained in his seat, still white with fury.

"Don't be like this, Ron," Moody said, almost bargaining with him. "Nobody wants you to have another seizure."

Ron blinked and seemed to be shaken out of his indignant rage for a moment. Moody guessed the troubled wizard had just realised that he'd held himself together despite forced physical contact and was slightly taken aback.

"Um... Erbarmen," Ron said with a shake of his head to clear the mass of thoughts, "which one is he?"

"From you testimonies and from what I saw in the Pensieve memories submitted to the trial," Moody began with great reluctance, "I can tell you exactly who he is to _you,_ Weasley."

"Go on," Ron nodded.

"You used to call him Skunk-Head."

* * *

"There you go, Professor," Tommy said as he spaced the small trunks out on the floor before Minerva McGonagall., "ready for you to enlarge them again."

It was quite clever, actually. Witches and wizards had been trying to come up with a way to shrink a travelling trunk and its contents for easy portability but all they ended up with was a tiny wooden box that they couldn't lift because it weighed more than the moon! There had been charms that reduced the size of the trunk perfectly, but crushed everything carried inside, and a spell that made the trunk work like a vanishing cabinet that only led to possessions showing up in other people's trunks by mistake. Finally, Professor McGonagall had come up with the best way to do it.

She flicked her wand at the trunks and engorged them. The trunks swelled and soon they were all back to normal, their contents intact. It confused Tommy to think about it but McGonagall had said it was all about thinking logically, something most witches and wizards didn't do, and that you could return something that should be small to it's normal state without damaging it or anything placed inside it. All she needed to do was think up a spell to make the trunks think they were supposed to be small and then, once packed, a flick of the wand would make the trunk return to its proper size of a thimble.

The spell that was cast on trunk and contents was the spell to make things bigger and possessions were in no danger of being crushed that way. The weight of the load was also kept in proportion.

Tommy still didn't quite understand it but he knew that he had to cast the spell on the empty trunks, pack them as usual, and then cast a simple _Finite Incantatem_ to reduce everything.

"Before you go, Mr Painter," the thin-lipped witch called to him as he made his way towards the fireplace, "there was a small favour I had to ask of you."

"Oh yeah?" Tommy frowned before remembering who he was talking to and ducking his head as if he'd been scolded by his mother. "I mean...yes Professor McGonagall?"

The woman smiled a little and gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk.

"Please, sit."

Tommy pulled out the chair as McGonagall did the same opposite him. They got comfortable and Tommy wondered what to do with his hands while the Headmistress of Hogwarts adjusted her spectacles on the end of her nose and pulled a sheet of parchment towards her from across the desk.

"Your organisational skills have been impressive, Mr Painter. You were able to assist the Callahan family discreetly, without offending the breadwinner or making the assistance appear to be a charitable donation, and with very little time available."

"Well, not really," Tommy shrugged, "I mean most of this stuff came from everyone else."

"I'm not just talking about the acquisition of the donations, Thomas, may I call you Thomas?" McGonagall asked with a warmth Tommy hadn't expected from her.

"Tommy, please."

"Tommy," the professor said, stiffening with the informality that comes along with shortening first names, "the thing is, I believe you have a great aptitude for organisation, mediation and communication."

"The three '_ations,_' eh?" Tommy joked and immediately wished he hadn't.

"Indeed," McGonagall said clearing her throat. "My point being this, we have gone through a lot of changes here during the war and now we have even more students with no financial means to support their education. Our fund is used before the school year has begun and...well, come Christmas..."

"You've got a lot of orphans staying for Christmas?" Tommy frowned.

She nodded.

"You have a wonderful skill for creating opportunities and solving problems. I don't know if you had a career in mind Mr...Tommy, but if not, I hope you would consider coming on board here at Hogwarts as our family services and youth support administrator."

Tommy's eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

* * *

"Hallo, Mr Erbarmen."

"Firebrand!" the Death Eater gasped.

Ron flinched a little but stepped into Skunk Head's cell. The guard slammed the door behind him and Ron jumped and looked over his shoulder.

"I won't lock it, Mr Weasley," the guard said coolly, "but it has to be closed for security reasons."

"Th-That's okay," Ron nodded, body tense at being locked up in a dank little cell once again, and turned back to address the Death Eater as he sat crumpled into a corner on the floor. "Don't call me that."

"_Het spijt me_."

"And I kn-kno-know you can sp-speak English so do it!"

"You seem to be having trouble speaking yourself, Weasley," the Death Eater noted whimsically.

"_Praat er niet om heen, zeg wat je wil_!" Ron spat angrily.

"You speak well in Dutch, young Weasley," the Skunk Head said with an approving nod. "Maybe your stutter is telling you that you are really one of us?"

"I am _not_ like you!" Ron said sternly.

"One of the Dutch," the Skunk Head smirked.

"_Zeg me gewoon wat je wil, eikel_!" Ron demanded.

"I want what only you can give me, young Weasley," the Death Eater said casually and shrugged. "I gave you a chance, do you remember?"

"I remember you didn't kill me when I had my hands t-tied behind my back...very big of you, well done."

"I let you go when I was ordered to kill you. I gave you the chance for freedom."

"After you watched me get tortured and felt up and fed human f-f-flesh!" Ron yelled furiously.

"I stopped the..." the Death Eater scrunched up his face for a moment before reverting back to his native tongue, "_Ik heb hem tegengehouden voor hij je misbruikte_! I made up an attack to interrupt. Don't you remember that?"

"I remember you turning away!" Ron snapped, "Walking away because you didn't want to watch."

"I stopped him!" The Death Eater bellowed.

"Not for me, you didn't!" Ron roared.

The man got up and took a step towards Ron. The angry young wizard raised his wand at the shabbily dressed man with the shock of white hair and he froze on the spot.

"I do not believe in the slaughter of purebloods," the man said, looking very unsteady on his feet. "I do not believe in rape and cannibalism. I d-"

"You just believe in slaughtering Muggles," Ron said with cold detachment. "You believe that half-breeds should be culled. You believe in slavery and you would murder most of my friends for being abominations...you'd murder my sister-in-law."

"I have beliefs I was brought up with just as you h-"

"Mummy and Daddy's fault, is it?" Ron laughed bitterly. "_I'm an arsehole but you can't blame me?_ They didn't bring you up to think for yourself or develop your own opinion on anything? That's a pitiful excuse and you know it!" Ron said as he shoved his wand away again and paced the small cell.

"You were a great warrior, Weasley," the Death Eater said after some time watching him. "I saw many a hardened Auror break under much less. You still stand before me now...stronger than everyone."

Ron cast a sideways scowl at the man.

"Don't _you_ compliment _me_."

The Death Eater shivered and leaned heavily against the wall, still watching Ron pace, and spoke in a slightly smug way. He knew something of the outside world, no doubt from his representative, Mr Eves, and was preparing to us it against him.

"I hear you are not so strong around people you trust."

Ron stopped pacing and glared at Skunk-Head.

"What?"

"I find it strange how you can be so strong in those cells, in the face of death and torture and...other indignities, and now you face me and you are the same. You are a leader. You are a warrior. You are a man, a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm not anything," Ron snarled. "I'm just more than you lot gave me credit for."

"So why are you falling apart in the real world, Weasley?" the Death Eater smirked. "Bairstow tells me you were back in St Mungo's with convulsive fits of terror because a man tried to urinate beside you. Where was your power then, boy?"

Ron turned around and banged on the cell door.

"Open up! I'm done with him."

"Wait!" the Death Eater said urgently.

"Why?" Ron asked as he scowled over his shoulder and the now panic stricken man.

"I have yet to ask you to do me...a favour?"

Ron snorted bitterly.

"Sod off!"

The cell door opened and Ron was about to step out when Skunk Head ran forward. The guard had his wand ready and froze him on the spot as if the Death Eater had just fallen into a thick glue that was impossible to walk through.

"I need you to request of the Minister for Magic..."

"Rot in your own filth, you fucking bastard!" Ron hissed. "You were happy enough to let _that_ happen to me."

"Ask him to execute me!" the Death Eater yelled desperately.

Ron stopped dead and swallowed. He was looking at the guard's chest blankly and trying to comprehend what he'd just been asked to do.

"They will not murder in the name of justice unless one of the victims request it."

"S-So ask one of the others," Ron croaked, throat dry as sand.

"We both know you are my victim, Weasley. I disapproved but I still did nothing. I turned my back, every time I saw something that sickened me...I turned my back and let it go on."

"Kill yourself if you want to die," Ron said shakily, still with his back to the Death Eater.

"If only I had the means to," the man laughed sadly. "You must ask the Minister to execute me. It will put us both out of our misery, no?"

Ron didn't say anything.

"I turned my back that last time so you could run...so you could live. I allowed you to escape, boy," Skunk Head said with a tremulous anger in his voice. "I am asking you to release me...give me my escape from this place."

"Make me as ba-bad as you, y'mean?" Ron said raggedly. "Make me a killer, too."

"You already are."

* * *

_A/N Obviously many thanks are due to the wonderful Maaike for help with the Dutch._


	15. You've Got Another Thing Coming

**You've Got Another Thing Coming**

Harry, Hermione and Lee were doing the rounds of the family looking for Ron.

He wasn't at the twins shop, he wasn't at Ginny and Luna's place, he wasn't with Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Percy were trying to push something legal through the official channels to prosecute people for harassment so he wouldn't have been with them. They'd even gone to Hogwarts to see if he was with Hagrid.

"I can't believe we slept in. I can't believe we slept in when he needed us," Hermione said fretfully.

"Well his mum did say he was a lot better this morning." Harry shrugged.

"But where did he go and why did he go by himself?" Lee asked, trying his best not to sound obsessive in his concern.

"There's no reason he shouldn't go out alone," Hermione said calmly, "it's actually a good thing, a positive step; we should think of how good this has probably been for him."

"But he still gets anxious and stutters and what if somebody gets in his face? What if one of those Howler sending scumbags bump into him?" Harry said, beginning to speak very fast as his tension escalated.

"Ron can't live in fear of '_what if'_ Harry!" Hermione spun around to stop him in his tracks, "I'm not trying to find him so we can take him home and hide him away. I want to find him to apologise for last night."

"Ron's mum said he told her he wasn't hurt or angry about last night." Lee said as he stepped up to Harry's side, both of them facing her with frowning faces, "He said he didn't feel rejected by you and that it was his...his problem that was messing with him."

Hermione sighed.

"But he's going to feel guilty about what happened with everyone, between the two of us especially, and he needs me for that. He needs me to tell him he has nothing to feel guilty about."

"He needs that Boo woman Hermione." Harry said despondently.

"Yeah but he has to decide to go to her before she can do any good. If it's something he's forced into it won't help." Lee scratched his back over his shoulder as he spoke.

"Your scars?" Hermione asked as she rested her hand upon the dreadlocked wizard's shoulder.

"Just an itch," Lee said with a smile as he rolled his shoulder out from under her sympathetic touch.

"Lee, are you talking to anyone yourself?" Hermione's tone let him know that she already knew the answer and was expecting the reaction she was about to receive.

"I don't need to talk to anybody," Lee said as his smile faltered, "the twins are setting me right on a few things and I'm spending a bit more time with my mum now."

Harry gave a silent nod of understanding. Sometimes help was right there in the very place you were avoiding.

"I just want to find him so I can put my mind at rest again." He tapped the side of his head, "I've got scars in here as well and they itch when I'm worried about him. I just want to know he's doing okay so I don't have to claw at myself trying to scratch it."

* * *

The knocking made Fergus very wary. He hoped the newspaper hacks hadn't found out his new address. Clutching his wand at his side he called through the closed door.

"Who's that then?"

"S'me, Ron."

Fergus relaxed and grabbed the door handle to let his friend in.

"What, that's it is it?" Ron's voice said with a huff, "You're just gonna take my word for it and not even check. I c-could be lying y'know?"

Fergus chuckled and threw the door open wide, beaming at his cocky mate.

"I'd recognise that stammer anywhere, get yer erse inside and lay off the Moody impressions."

Ron gave a chuckle and a shake of the head before stepping inside and wandering down the hall. Fergus closed the door behind them and followed him. Ron turned to go into the living room and froze. Fergus almost bumped into him.

"Hey watch it there Weasley, yer allowed in yeh know?" Fergus grinned.

Ron was staring at the wall and mantelpiece in front of him and his eyes were wide. Fergus glanced inside and realised Ron hadn't been expecting the big wall of memorial for all their dead friends and cursed under his breath as he grabbed Ron gently by the shoulder and guided him away from the doorway and through to the kitchen.

"We'll sit in here shall we?"

"Huh?" Ron blinked as he let himself be steered further down the hall and into a wooden chair at the kitchen table.

"Ye okay there Ron?" Fergus asked with concern as he sat down opposite his pale friend.

"I'm...um..." Ron blinked several times and shook his head to clear it, "Can I have a drink?"

Fergus nodded, worriedly.

"Tea?"

"A _drink_ Fergus." Ron said with a meaningful stare.

"Yeah, sure ye can, I've Firewhiskey or mead or Butterbee-"

"Sloe Vodka? Got any of that?" Ron interrupted.

Fergus blinked and stared at Ron in shock. Sloes were very potent and Sloe Vodka was strong enough to kill a troll with one bottle. He'd kept a bottle hidden way at the back of his kitchen cupboard for the times when he just wanted to have a shot that would clear every thought clean out of his head until morning but he preferred to wallow in a bottle of Firewhisky or some Bramble Brandy rather than send himself silly on a couple of gulps of the Vodka. He was immediately worried about Ron's state of mind if he was asking for something as savage as that.

"I do but...it's a bit early for that Ron. I've never poured a shot of Sloe-V before six o'clock." Fergus said as he watched Ron staring at his hands as if they were somehow different and he was trying to work out how and why.

"I just came from Azkaban prison and I really w-want a drink Fergus." Ron said unsteadily.

Fergus plunged his arm into the open cupboard and knocked over several glasses before pulling down a small shot glass and setting it down on the table before Ron with a bang.

"Sorry, I'm just gettin' it for yeh." Fergus mumbled as he turned back and rose up on tiptoes to rummage for the bottle of dark purple vodka.

Ron rolled the small glass back and forth between his finger and thumb while his free hand pushed through his hair. He sighed and Fergus grunted as he just managed to claw the bottle towards him with his fingertips.

"So," the Irishman said as he lowered the two thirds full bottle of Sloe Vodka down and unscrewed the cap, "what were ya doin' in Azkaban anyway?"

"I went to see a Death Eater." Ron answered emptily.

Fergus pressed his lips together tightly and wished he wasn't alone with Ron for this.

"Why?"

"Because he kept asking me to." Ron shrugged.

Fergus poured Ron a shot of the Vodka and sat down across the table from the blank looking redhead once again.

"What did he want from ya mate?"

"A favour," Ron said with a distant little laugh.

Ron's looked at the glass of Sloe Vodka and lifted it to his nose to sniff it.

"That worthless little gobshite!" Fergus hissed, banging his fist on the table, "Who are any of them te be askin' ya fer anythin'?"

Ron licked his lips and remained focused on the contents of the glass as he answered.

"It was the Skunk Head one," Ron said before downing the shot in one while Fergus winced.

He didn't know if he was wincing over the thought of knocking back a shot of Sole Vodka so early in the evening or the thought that Ron had just been face to face with that vile Death Eater again. Ron swallowed and gasped as he slammed the shot glass back down on the kitchen table.

"_Whoa!"_ Ron exclaimed as his eyes bulged and he fanned into his open mouth as if it was on fire.

"Feel better now?" Fergus asked, eyebrows cocked with sympathetic smugness...almost the way his mother would look at him when he had a hangover, he realised.

"Why has my head gone numb?" Ron panted shakily.

"Because yer not a hardcore drunk ya great eejit!" Fergus laughed as he screwed the cap back on the bottle.

"No," Ron said, sliding his glass across the table, "gi's another one."

"Ron, no!" Fergus said firmly.

Ron's eyes glared at Fergus lividly.

"You're in no position to tell me I can't have another drink Finnigan!"

"Is tha' what this is then? Yeh makin' a point ta me are ya?" Fergus snapped suspiciously, "Don't make that point wi' this stuff. It'll kill yeh."

"Well look at you!" Ron jumped up from his seat and leaned over the table towards Fergus, "You've moved out, you've moved on, you're coping and I bet your bloody Howler's have stopped haven't they?"

Fergus drew in a calming breath and let it out.

"Look mate, I think we should call ya folks t-"

"You even have a living room full of death and it doesn't bother you!" Ron waved behind him and out the kitchen door, "You numbed yourself with booze and I wanna be where you are. I wanna play catch up so gimme another!"

"No!" Fergus jumped out of his seat and yelled into Ron's face.

"Fucking hypocrite!" Ron spat before lunging for the bottle and yanking it from Fergus' hand.

"Ron, ya not in yer right mind." Fergus hurried around the table but Ron was already pacing around it the other way and unscrewing the cap, "Ya need help, like that woman ya told me about before. Try talkin' ta her before doin' things my stupid way."

"And what am I supposed to tell the bitch?" Ron bellowed, arms flailing, "The man who may very well be responsible for me getting out of that place alive, but who also let me get molested and fed human body parts, has just asked me to kill him. What can _she_ do about that? Can she decide for me?"

Fergus froze on the spot and swayed slightly. Absent-mindedly he reached for his bottle of Firewhisky and pulled out the cork before taking a large swig.

"Jaysis Weasley," Fergus said after swallowing, shaking his head in disbelief.

Ron lifted the bottle to his lips and Fergus was about to lunge over the table to stop him but Ron let the bottle fall again so he could smirk at the worried Irishman.

"Whenever _you_ drink Finnigan, _I_ drink."

With that Ron brought the bottle to his lips once again and threw back his head to take a gulp.

"Jaysis Weasley, no! Please don't, take the Mead, take the whiskey just pour that stuff down the sink." Fergus begged him.

"Down the sink?" Ron snorted, "You want me to pour the good stuff down the sink? What kind of drunk are you?"

Fergus drew his wand and flicked it at the bottle.

"_Accio!_"

The bottle flew from Ron's grasp and through the air towards Fergus' waiting hand. Ron brandished his own wand at the bottle and sent a spell flying before the Irishman could grab it.

"_Expelliarmis!_"

The bottle spun in mid air like a Catherine Wheel and shattered against the wall. They both stood, wands drawn and breathing heavily, and waited for the other to do something.

"So what exactly did the Skunk Head ask yeh ta do?"

"I told you, he wants me to k-kill him."

"Well he must know that won't happen, not in the security of Azkaban. Tell me what he said Ron."

"He said he wants to die. He said I owe him a favour. He asked me to go to the Minister and request, as his _victim_," Ron said the word 'victim' with a disgusted wince, "his execution."

"Let him rot," Fergus said simply.

"He won't rot," Ron said rubbing his face roughly, "he'll just keep writing and writing and writing..."

"Then let him die," Fergus shrugged.

"Don't I already have enough blood on my hands?" Ron said wearily, slumping down into Fergus' vacated seat at the table, "I can't kill him for revenge Fergus. I can barley live with killing that fucker in self defence."

Ron reached over and grabbed the bottle of mead.

"Don't mix yer drinks," Fergus smiled sadly.

Ron's smile reflected Fergus' as he looked up and uncorked the bottle.

"Well you took away my option to stick to the vodka so I'll have to go with this."

Ron lifted the bottle to his lips and Fergus grabbed a chair and dragged it around the table to sit at Ron's side. He pulled the bottle away and upturned it over the sink.

"I'm beggin' ya, don't."

Ron's eyes flickered down to Fergus' bottle and then back up at his face with a defiant arch of the eyebrow.

"Ya said you'd drink when I drank so that means ya have ta stop when I stop." Fergus said fiercely, pouring his bottle of Firewhisky down the sink too.

"That easy for you to stop is it?"

"No," Fergus shook his head, "but if yer strong then I'll be strong too. Yer the leader after all Weasley."

Ron slumped over the table, head supported in his hands.

"I was never a leader."

"Ye were our backbone in that place. Every time he knocked ya down, up you'd get ready ta fight some more." Fergus said, gripping Ron by the shoulder and giving him a bracing shake.

"That's how I _used_ to be," Ron murmured as he settled his head on the table and closed his eyes.

"It's how y'are." Fergus said firmly.

Ron didn't answer. He'd got what he was after. He'd numbed himself into unconsciousness.

* * *

He felt as if he had an axe buried into his skull.

He groaned and suddenly it felt as if his eyelids had been ripped off and molten lava was being poured directly into his eye sockets. It turned out to be nothing more than Harry opening the curtains and letting the morning light in.

"Fugginell!" Ron moaned into his pillow as he buried his face deep into the downy softness to block out the light.

"No you don't," Harry said as he grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him over, "you're not suffocating yourself on top of everything else!"

As soon as Ron lay on his back he felt the room spin and his stomach trying to force itself out of his mouth. His eyes widened and stung, he rolled over the side of the bed and promptly threw up all down Harry's front.

"Oh lovely!" Harry groaned, rubbing Ron's back as the sweaty redhead retched and coughed, "You have all the fun with Fergus and save all this for me. I'm touched, I really am."

Ron had another convulsive puking fit, this time on Harry's slippers, before wiping his mouth on Harry's sleeve and frowning up at him.

"I did what with Fergus?" he croaked, "Where's Fergus?"

"Fergus is at home. You made him pour all his booze down the sink to keep you from drinking it. Don't you remember?" Harry pushed Ron away from him and held him firmly in the sitting position.

Ron swallowed and then let his tongue flop out of his mouth. He tried to speak with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a blue sock.

"Is my tongue falling to pieces?"

Harry baulked at the vile morning, vomit and hangover breath that had been blasted into his face.

"Put it away and listen to me," Harry said as he perched himself on the edge of Ron's bed, still holding him steady by the upper arms, "how could you go to Azkaban alone like that?"

Ron blinked and swallowed before answering the question with a look of deep concentration on his face.

"I went to Azkaban."

"Yes, I know that," Harry said impatiently, "I asked you how you could have gone alone. Do you realise what could have happened to you?"

"There was a guard right outside," Ron said with a yawn and a groan.

"A Dementor is going to look after you when you keel over with a seizure is it?" Harry snapped.

"They don't use Dementors at Azkaban any more Harry, they betrayed the Ministry remember?" Ron said as he tried to lie back down on his bed and go back to sleep.

"That's not the point!" Harry said as he gave Ron a sharp shake to keep him awake.

"You left me behind," Ron said lazily, "you always leave me behind."

Harry's indignant anger dissolved and he lowered Ron down onto his pillow, pulling the covers back over him.

"I'm sorry I left you," he said hoarsely, "I should have been with you in Venlo, not doing press conferences and political crap. I should have been with you when they attacked the safe house and I'm sorry."

Ron looked at Harry as if he'd just strung together a series of random words that made no sense at all.

"Every time you went after Voldoo-know-who," Ron said waving a lazy hand as if he couldn't remember which version of the Dark Lord's name he was supposed to be using, "you always left me behind and faced him on your own."

"I had to," Harry said, shocked to find himself thumbing away a blob of sick from his best friend's chin without feeling disgusted by it, "he was _my_ enemy more than he was anybody else's, _my_ demon, the monster _I_ had to vanquish."

"Now I have a monster too," Ron said as he snuggled into his pillow, "and you gotta stay behind and wait f'me to vanquish him."

Harry stared at his hung-over friend and reached for a potion bottle that was set upon the bedside cabinet.

"Here, take this, your mum said it would stop your head hurting and you should be okay by lunchtime."

Ron lifted his head up from the pillow and squinted at the bottle. Harry removed the stopper and tilted Ron's head at an angle before pouring the potion into his mouth. Ron grimaced and swallowed it down.

"Did Fergus tell you what the Skunk Head wanted?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded as he waited for Ron to drift away and sleep off the rest of his hangover.

"What would you do?" Ron asked sleepily.

Harry's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched.

"If he really had a death wish...I'd set my best friend on him."

* * *

Ron had just finished brushing his teeth when he felt a familiar stirring in his loins and groaned into his mouth full of minty foam.

"What is it with you and the bathroom?" he asked his hard on with a weak chuckle, "There's nothing in here to get turned on by."

He leaned over the sink and spat. Rolling his eyes at how bad things must be for him to be trying to reason with his cock he heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Ron, was that you I just heard in there?" Hermione called through the locked door.

Ron lowered his head and whispered at the tent in his pyjama bottoms.

"See this is why I can't help you out mate...she always shows up and we don't want her to think we're a pair of tossers do we?"

"Ron?" Hermione asked, "Who are you talking to?"

"The mirror," Ron called out and scowled at his reflection, daring the mirror to say something and drop him in it.

"_Yes dear,"_ the mirror sang out in an uncommonly honest voice, "_we were just talking about you and how pretty you are looking these days_."

Ron rolled his eyes and wrote 'Git' in steam on the mirror before tugging at his pyjama bottoms in an attempt to disguise the obvious with no success. He grabbed a long bath towel and held it up to his face as if he was wiping it clean, so it hung before him in just the right place to hide his bathroom salute, and unlocked the door.

"Hiya," he smiled awkwardly, "ignore that thing, it's just on a wind up today."

"Isn't it always?" Hermione grinned, "So how are you feeling?"

Ron cringed with embarrassment and Hermione chuckled and approached him to give him a comforting pat on the arm.

"I think I know what you were doing but really Ronald," Hermione said with narrowing eyes, a sure sign of her disapproval, "getting Fergus to see how destructive his dependence on alcohol can be via alcohol poisoning was not the best idea you've ever had."

"I didn't have alcohol poisoning did I?" Ron asked, face falling.

"No you didn't but you were close enough for my liking thank you!"

Hermione's scornful expression gradually melted into a wide smile and she stepped right into him and snaked her arms around his body. Ron suddenly remembered that he didn't really want her pressing right up against him at that moment and was about to jump away when he realised that her hips were pressed right up against his and there was no third party coming between them.

"I didn't get to speak to you all day yesterday," Hermione sighed into his chest, "and I really wanted to clear the air and make sure you knew I hadn't rejected you."

Ron kissed the top of her head and held her close to him.

"I knew that wasn't why you wouldn't stay. Don't fret about it."

Hermione sighed again, her breasts pushing against the bottom of his ribcage, and she lifted her head and rose up onto tiptoes so she could nuzzle into the side of his neck.

"I wish I could have stayed," she whispered before kissing his pulse point, "I love being close to you like this," she kissed him again and ran her hand through his hair at the back of his head, "I love how it felt to wake up with you in the morning," she pulled his head down to her level and softly kissed his lips, "and I'll wait however long it takes to do it so don't you dare hurry."

"I won't," Ron spoke into her mouth before kissing her back and squeezing her buttocks and pushing her against him firmly.

"I can wait for as long as you need," Hermione smiled and then stroked against Ron's tongue with hers and withdrew it again with a hum of contentment, "because we can do this while we wait and this is wonderful!"

Ron plunged his tongue into her mouth and enticed hers into his. They both angled their heads for better access and Ron massaged their tongues together before sucking upon the warm wet pink muscle and pulled back. He kissed Hermione's bottom lip, then the top, then the corner of her mouth and she parted the moist fleshy cushions and her warm breath caressed his face.

Ron ground his hips against her and then frowned. Hermione didn't notice and he went back to kissing her again. A little while later he pulled her body in towards himself and thrust his hips forward, giving a moan of frustration before Hermione leaned back to look at him, worry clearly etched upon her features.

"Too much?"

"No," Ron said, aggravated and confused, "Not enough!"

"What?" Hermione blinked.

"Before you came in...it was...I was..."

"Oh!" Hermione jumped back, "did I interrupt you again?"

"No!" Ron exclaimed hastily, "I was just in an excitable state and then I lost it and now...now I can't...why can't I when you're here with me? Why is it only when I'm on my own and there's nothing sexy going on around me at all?"

"You came to the bathroom looking for sexual stimulus?" Hermione asked, her clinical bookworm hat firmly on her head.

"I came into the bathroom to brush my teeth!" Ron said indignantly.

"Look Ron its fine that you're not aroused all the time. Most women would be relieved to have a boyfriend who isn't constantly rutting against her every ti-"

"But I want to be!" Ron said with strangled frustration, "I want to be aroused by you. I used to be all the time and now it's...it's like...like I can only get it up when I'm alone."

"What did we say about you pushing this Ron?" Hermione said with concern.

"But I wasn't pushing anything," Ron struggled to explain, "I was feeling good and then when we were close I wanted to feel the same with you but...it wasn't happening."

"This is a new step for us and you can't tear yourself up over it because it doesn't happen immediately."

"But it had happened, it had already hap-happened!" Ron said, throwing the towel to the floor in disgust at his stutter returning, "I don't want to get a hard-on brushing my teeth or taking a shower. I want to...well I don't _want_ to be turned on with you at random but I wanna..."

"Ron," Hermione took his hands and looked him in the eye, easy enough when he had his head down the way it was at that moment, "don't add this to everything else you have on your mind right now. You were on the receiving end of unwanted physical contact and now you're easing yourself into becoming sexual again."

"So now I can't even control my p-p-penis because of my traumatic fucking experience?" Ron said angrily, "I've had enough of this shit Hermione. I've had enough of seizures and nightmares and stutters and flashbacks and fascists asking me to kill them. I've had _enough!_"

Hermione paled and stepped back, looking at him as if terrified about the answer he would give to the question she was about to ask.

"So what are you going to do?"

* * *

There was a knock on the door and she looked up from the file she had open on her desk.

"Yes?"

She recognised him immediately, he stepped inside and looked at his feet uncomfortably.

"Um...I dunno if you remember me but..."

"I remember you Ron."

He looked up.

"Could I make an ap-poi-pointment to come and see you or something?"

She smiled and closed the file.

"You can see me right now."

He didn't look any more relieved to hear this news but he closed the door behind him and gave a reluctant smile.

"Thanks Madam Boo."


	16. Talking To Ron

**Talking To Ron**

"So he's sitting there in the cell just like I was and he's wishing he was dead..."

"Did you ever wish _you_ were dead during your captivity?" Madam Boo asked him without any judgement or expectations of him.

Ron took a deep breath in and out as he thought.

"I wanted to swap a few times," he admitted with a shrug.

"Swap?"

Ron nodded.

"Y'know, like when they were crippling my arms and Danny got taken away. I wanted to take his place."

Madam Boo nodded.

"Jimmy as well," Ron said as he shifted in his seat. "He was the youngest, he was only se-sevent-t-teen."

"Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths for me, Ron," Boo instructed him.

Ron did what she asked and after a while he cracked his eyelid open to peek back at her. She was smiling at him, silently laughing because he was cheating, and he chortled and sat up in his chair.

"Sorry," he mumbled like a naughty schoolboy.

"No problem," Boo said as she poured a glass of water for herself before offering some to him. "Your stutter isn't as frequent as it used to be, is it?"

Ron held out his glass and watched her top it up.

"No, it still sneaks up on me and once I start it's like..." He took a sip of the water swallowed and continued. "It's like pins and needles. Y'know when your foot goes dead and you have to just bang it on the floor and wriggle your toes until you get the feeling back again?"

Boo nodded.

"It's like that. I have to keep banging away at it until I shake it off and I can't skip over it and keep talking. It freezes me up on the spot."

Boo set her glass on a folded napkin and Ron realised his glass was dripping all over the desk. He sat forward and lifted the glass, mopping up the ring of water with his sleeve apologetically. She smiled at him, lifted her glass to her lips again, and then set it down beside the napkin.

"What are you going to do now?" She smirked mischievously.

"What?" Ron frowned, corners of his mouth turning up.

"Well now, _I'm_ making a mess, so are you going to do the same or keep holding onto your glass so it drips all over your lap?"

Ron narrowed his eyes and then lowered his glass down to set in on the rug at his feet.

Boo laughed.

"You have a defiant streak then?"

Ron shrugged.

"Sometimes."

"Do you tend to do the exact opposite of what your friends ask you to do?"

"No," Ron said sincerely.

"What about if your siblings told you to do something?"

Ron smirked.

"Well, I'd probably be a little difficult if they were bossing me around, yeah."

"And if your mother badgered you to do something for her?"

"I'd do everything I could to get out of it!" Ron grinned.

"You like to be challenged, to rebel?" Boo suggested.

Ron shrugged.

"You were asked to do something by that Death Eater and your instinct is to deny him what he wants, right?"

Ron drew in a sharp breath and sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

"I want to do what's right. I just don't know what that is as far as he's concerned."

"What if I told you killing him was right and set the papers down in front of you for you to sign? Would you just do it?"

"No."

"Do you think he deserves to die?" Boo asked, tilting her head to one side.

Ron shrugged.

"Do you think he should be punished?" she pressed.

"_Yes!"_ Ron said emphatically.

Madam Boo hesitated for a moment before leaning over the desk, looking Ron in the eye.

"Did you finally come to see me in the hope that I would make this decision for you?"

Ron looked down at his hands in his lap and shook his head.

"What happened to make you come here, Ron?"

He swallowed and shifted in his seat. He licked his lips and cleared his throat before looking up again, eyes averted, and began to speak.

"I love my girlfriend."

Boo nodded.

"So you came because she asked you to?"

"No," Ron mumbled and squirmed again, "I _love_ my girlfriend."

Boo stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"Have you been physically intimate with each other before?"

"Before V-Venlo, yeah, just once." He nodded.

"And since?"

Ron jumped up from the chair, knocked over the water at his feet and swore under his breath. He dropped to his knees and began to clean it up. He picked up the glass and set it on top of the desk and then siphoned the water out of the rug with his wand.

"I'm gonna go home now," Ron said distractedly. "I gotta g-g-go. I didn't tell anyone where I wa-w-"

"Go, Ron," Madam Boo said with an encouraging nod.

He wiped his wet hands on his jeans and scurried for the door.

"Thanks."

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" she called after him.

He froze at the door and cringed slightly.

"Do I have to?"

"You don't have to do anything," Boo said calmly. "So shall I expect you again tomorrow, Ron?"

He turned the door handle and nodded.

"Yeah."

* * *

Ron sat opposite Lee and closed his eyes. Lee's hands were on his shoulders and Harry sat to one side reading the booklet from the speech therapist aloud. 

"Okay, so now you need to hold his head gently, don't cover his ears, though."

Lee did as instructed and Ron sat perfectly still.

"Ron?" Harry asked, leaning forward to look at the peaceful face between Lee's hands.

"Go on," Ron said as he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs nervously before settling down again.

"Repeat after me, okay?" Harry said, waiting for Ron to nod before going on. "Okay, babble..."

"Babble."

"Babel."

"Babel."

"Babied."

"Babied."

Harry gave Lee a nod and the dreadlocked wizard began talking to Ron in an even tone.

"Tell me where my hands are, Ron?"

"On my head," Ron responded.

"Baboon." Harry said in the same way he'd spoken the other prompts.

"Baboon," Ron echoed.

Lee's hands slid down and held Ron very gently on either side of his neck.

"Where now?" he asked Ron as Harry prepared to throw another word at him.

"My throat," Ron said with a small crinkle in his forehead.

"Bacchanalian."

"Bacchanalian!" Ron blurted just as Lee's hands slid down his throat and pressed flat against his chest. "Chest!"

"Backbite," Harry said, picking up speed now, just as the booklet said he should.

"Backbi-bite," Ron said, flinching at his hesitation.

"It's okay," Lee whispered, hands sliding down to Ron's stomach. "Where am I now?"

"Backbone," Harry said quickly.

"Belly...Backbone!" Ron said in response to both of them.

Lee pushed his hands around Ron's waist and let them settle on the small of his back. Harry followed the instruction to do his best to confuse Ron's mind between words and sensations.

"Backside," Harry said, eyes wide as they stared at Lee who was still waiting for Ron to name the place his hands were resting.

"B-Ba-Back!" Ron said, one of his hands lifting away from his lap to wave before him as if batting away other thoughts. "Back."

"Backside, Ron," Harry repeated.

"Backside," Ron said with a deep nod of determination.

"Biceps," Harry said and nodded to Lee who then quickly grabbed Ron around the upper arms.

"Where am I now?" Lee demanded.

"Biceps, biceps!" Ron said hurriedly, his face was crinkled with concentration and his breathing was picking up speed.

Harry winced and read aloud the final word just as Lee removed his hands from Ron altogether.

"Bollocks," Harry said firmly.

Ron's eyes opened wide. He grabbed Lee by the wrists and shoved him backwards over the coffee table, shouting.

"No!"

Harry put the leaflet down and pulled Ron back onto the armchair again.

"Lee wasn't going to touch you that time…that was the last test," Harry explained.

Ron was panting and looking from one of them to the other.

"So w-what was the point of that?" he demanded.

"Forget the point, Ron," Harry smiled sympathetically. "You passed."

"Huh?" Ron frowned.

Lee grinned and sat beside him, throwing his arm around Ron's shoulders, giving him a bracing, blokey hug.

"You don't have to do speech therapy anymore, Ron," the dreadlocked wizard grinned. "Harry said the Healer told him that more than five stammers was a fail and you'd need to keep practicing. You only went a couple of times, mate."

"Exactly," Harry nodded happily. "You stormed it."

"But I still do it," Ron frowned. "I just did it then, when we finished."

"Well, I do it once in a while. Do you stumble over your words sometimes, Lee?" Harry smiled breezily to the other wizard.

"'Course, I do."

Ron didn't look as if he was buying this and Harry threw the leaflet down and gave him a friendly pat on the back.

"You knew this wasn't going to be cured, Ron. But it's better. You have control over it now, don't you?"

Ron shrugged.

"You do!" Lee said, shoving him. "You used to stutter when you were perfectly calm and now you only stutter when you're really stressed out and even then you can put a lid on it. You've done brilliantly."

Ron pinked in the ears a little and smiled.

"I had my best brothers on the job, didn't I?"

* * *

"So do you remember your dreams, Ron?" 

"The dreams or the nightmares?" Ron said, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes questioningly.

"The nightmares, what do you remember of them?"

Ron shrugged and shook his head with a deep, world-weary sigh.

"It's like a thick wet fog in front of one of those moving Muggle pictures. I see stuff that happened and it all blurs and smudges into other stuff from much later, then the fog shifts and I'm collapsing onto the bed at the safe house and thinking about going home the next day."

"So you still think about the attack on the safe house as well as the time in the cells?" Boo said, scratching the underside of her chin with her knuckles.

"Just before I wake up in the morning, mostly." Ron said thoughtfully. "Just as I get kicked in the head, I wake up."

"When you woke up from being kicked in the head, for real, I mean, what was the first thing you saw and heard?"

"Shouting and fighting. Everybody was scrapping and then we were lined up against the wall and taken one by one into the cells." Ron played with a broken quill on the desk as he spoke.

"Was it then you were singled out by the Puppet Master or later?" Boo asked, watching him carve a notch into the desk with the broken nib.

"Later," Ron said before scrunching up his face and looking to the ceiling. "Wait, no, he did start on me there. He was breathing right into my face and shoved me against the wall. Knocked me down, punched me in the back and then ordered me to get up again, otherwise he'd kill the people on either side of me."

"So, you were selected from the moment he saw you?"

Ron shrugged and sighed.

"Maybe."

"Do you think he was specifically looking for you at the safe house?"

"No," Ron said with certainty. "He was gloating over me at the safe house but I was just another body then. He left to round up more."

"So you did something after you woke up to make him notice you?" Boo pushed.

Ron closed his eyes and thought hard. Eventually, he shook his head.

"No, not any more than the others. Ernie wa..." Ron blanked for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing, "Ernie was fighting the whole time. During the ambush. When I woke up he was still fighting. They had to give him a real going over before they dumped him in his cell."

"So you think Ernie was the most noticeable?"

"Ernie, Krum--he was famous, wasn't he--Danny was playing his Auror card until they threatened to start killing the rest of us...um." Ron tried to un-cloud the memory. "I just can't order this stuff in my head any more. I'm sorry."

"You siphoned off the memories for the trial and then didn't put them back. Is that right?"

Ron nodded.

"Uh-huh."

"It hasn't taken the memory away?"

"No."

"Is the memory less painful?"

"No."

"Is it duller, fuzzier in your mind?"

"Kinda," Ron said with a single nod.

"I understand you are quite an impressive wizard, Ron," Madam Boo said, appearing to change tack.

"Uh...not really," Ron snorted.

"So you can't produce a corporeal Patronus then? I have the wrong information?"

"Well no, I _can_ do that, but Harry taught me. He's the impressive one."

"A teacher is only as good as their student, Ron," Boo said with a satisfied smile. "Tell me though, have you tried to produce one since you were free?"

"No, I've had no need to."

"Would you try for me now?"

Ron look puzzled as he got to his feet and withdrew his wand. He concentrated for a moment before aiming his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

A small silvery dog burst forth from the jet of light sprouting out of his wand and bounded across the room. Ron whistled to it and it ran back to him, wagging its tail. Ron twirled his finger in tight circles and the dog spun around, chasing its tail until it faded into a cloud of silver light.

He turned to look back at Madam Boo.

"There ya go, was that what you wanted?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled broadly.

"I understand you have to harness a wonderful memory in order to produce something like that, Ron."

"Yeah, think happy thoughts and all that bollocks." He shrugged with a grin.

"Are your happy thoughts cloudy like the unhappy ones?"

He blinked and sat back down again.

"No."

"Maybe next time you find yourself in a foggy dream or nightmare you could cast a Patronus and...play fetch?"

They both laughed.

* * *

"So how are things going with you then, runt?" Charlie said as he ruffled his little brother's hair and wandered over to the larder to grab a Butterbeer. "Want one?" 

"Fine and no thanks. I'm not allowed," Ron said with a carefree shrug of the shoulders.

Charlie closed the door to the larder and removed the cap from his bottle.

"What d'ya mean you're not allowed?"

"I'm not allowed alcohol for a month. Apparently, I have a very low tolerance for Sloe-V and it's gonna take twenty-eight days to get it out of my system."

Charlie's face broke into a wide grin.

"Are you telling me you're going to be drunk for the next twenty-eight days?"

Ron gave a tut and rolled his eyes.

"_No!_ It just means if I have any alcohol, it'll react to my blood and make me go all loopy like I'm hammered. The Sloe-V thins the blood or something...also if I cut myself you have to take me to hospital. Now I think of it, I probably should have mentioned that bit first."

Charlie gaped at his little brother.

"Oh d'ya think so?" he said before leaning over and clouting Ron around the back of the head. "In future all circumstances that end with the words '_you have to take me to hospital_' are to be told to me straight away."

Ron chuckled and looked back down at some papers he had spread out in front of him. He chewed on his bottom lips thoughtfully and then reached for a quill.

"Whatcha doin'?" Charlie said, leaning over and trying to read the papers upside-down.

"Propositioning the new Head of International Operations," Ron mumbled as he scribbled something down on the paper nearest to him and ticked several 'ticky boxes'.

"Does Hermione know?" Charlie snorted.

Ron lifted his eyes but didn't raise his head to give his brother a withering look and then he signed and dated the bottom of the paper and set it to one side for the ink to dry.

"Speech therapy's over and I'm enrolling in advanced Dutch at the linguistics academy. By the time the International Ops bloke gets back to me, I'll be fluent and can apply for an interpreter job with the Ministry."

Charlie furrowed his brow and considered Ron carefully for a moment.

"You still want to get into that, do you?"

Ron looked up, met Charlie's eyes for a moment, and nodded. Charlie necked half his bottle of Butterbeer in one and set it down again with a burp. Ron sniggered and signed and dated a second page before shuffling the papers together and pushing them to one side.

"It's good to see you like this, runt," Charlie said as he propped his head up with one hand, elbow on the table.

"It's nice to be looked at as if I'm normal," Ron said frankly.

"You're not normal," Charlie grinned. "You're exceptional!"

"You're delusional," Ron chuckled, "like that Skeeter woman who thought Harry and Hermione were a perfect couple!"

Charlie threw back his head and laughed before swigging back some more Butterbeer and summoning another from the cupboard with his wand. Ron arched an eyebrow at him and eyed the bottles before him.

"Oh, only house-elves get drunk on Butterbeer, it's weak as hell," Charlie scoffed. He flicked his wand at his cloak which hung on a hook by the front door and a slab of Honeydukes' chocolate flew towards him. "Here ya go, I picked you up your drug of choice."

"Ta!" Ron said as he tore open the paper and broke off a chunk.

Charlie watched him and shook his head in amazement.

"Wha?" Ron asked thickly.

"Just you, that's all. You'll never stop being like this, will you?"

Ron wrinkled his eyebrows together and scrunched up his nose.

"I mean you'll never forget what it felt like to be a kid. You'll always have that child-like enthusiasm in you."

Ron sat back and spoke through a mouth full of melting chocolate.

"Why is it I feel like I'm being insulted?"

"You're not!" Charlie cackled. "It's a compliment I assure you. After everything you went through in your childhood, you still managed to stay a child and I'm really glad. I'm glad you didn't go all bitter and tired and...Percy on us."

Ron swallowed his mouthful and licked his fingers.

"Percy's alright," Ron said reasonably. "I feel sorry for the bloke. He gets judged in comparison to us and told there's something wrong with him because he's different. What makes _us_ so great that _he_ should change?"

"He was a very old five-year-old though Ron--he was born an old codger!"

Ron and Charlie laughed. Charlie drained his first bottle and Ron broke off another piece of chocolate and popped it into his mouth. They sat in comfortable silence for some time before Charlie scraped his chair along the floor and moved around the table so he could confide in Ron discreetly.

"Hey, runt," he began with a nudge to Ron's elbow, "I'm going to be starting work in Estonia next week and I wanted to talk to you before I left."

Ron nudged him back.

"I'm gonna be okay. I know you miss work, and you've spent way too much time at home for you. I bet you're craving living rough and eating raw meat and pounding on your bare chest at dawn while Valkyries with ginormous chests ride dragons around your head."

Charlie spat his mouthful of Butterbeer all over the table.

"_That's_ how you picture me at work?"

"I didn't have to picture it. Fred drew a really graphic cartoon for me once!" Ron said brightly.

Charlie wiped his mouth and rolled his eyes.

"I worry about him sometimes."

"Ah, that's your first mistake," Ron said with a sigh. "You should worry about Fred at _all_ times."

Charlie chortled and, gradually, his smile faded, staring down at the table top once again.

"Fred lost it at the Embassy, didn't he?" Ron asked.

Charlie swallowed and lifted his head again.

"He gave one of those sods a damn good beating, if that's what you're talking about, yeah."

"Ginny said he scared her."

"Not me," Charlie said adamantly. "I wanted to do it too. He'd seen what they were doing to you and he needed to make them pay."

Ron summoned a jug of elderflower and poured himself a glass. He took a sip and then fixed Charlie's gaze with his expressive blue eyes.

"He didn't kill him though, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

Ron blinked, chewed on his bottom lip, and then drew a line in the condensation down the side of his glass with his little finger.

"Did you keep hitting him after he died, Charlie?"

Charlie knew they both needed to have this conversation before he left but now that the time had come, he wanted to run away.

"I did, yeah."

"They don't bleed the same once their dead, do they?" Ron said in a detached way. "I knew when that Death Eater I fought in the woods was gone because the blood stopped gushing."

Charlie nodded.

"I just wanted to obliterate him from existence. I wanted to erase his smug face," Charlie said before glugging on his Butterbeer. "The things he was saying about you...what he said he'd done...he said...said you'd..." Charlie drank deeply from the bottle again.

"Tell me, Charlie," Ron said, shuffling forward on his chair. "I need to have him dead in my head, too. Please tell me."

"He said you liked it and you were begging him for it," Charlie said, sounding disgusted. "He said you offered yourself to him and you'd kissed him and...he just twisted what really went on in there to make me think he'd broken you and that he'd raped you."

"Sounds like him." Ron nodded.

"He was mocking me as I killed him. He was smiling at me long after I'd knocked his teeth out. I couldn't stop pounding his face in," Charlie said, both hands gripping the bottle tightly. "He touched you and he was laughing about it so I just hit him and hit him and hit him..."

"Mine died with a fight," Ron said as he stared over his brother's shoulder into the middle distance. "I had to stop him killing me and then I had to stop him alerting the others. They were all lo-looking for me."

Ron swallowed and bowed his head and hummed a musical scale, high note to low, and then lifted his head and carried on.

"Then I knew they'd want a body and I needed a disguise, so I had to disfigure him. I mutilated his face with a rock and changed his hair colour and swapped clothes. I killed him, I mutilated his corpse, and then I undressed him."

"You escaped. You fought for your freedom and you survived," Charlie said fiercely.

"Did it make it better for you? After you killed him, was it like...justice?" Ron asked.

"It was like putting down a rabid dragon before it tore apart the local village," Charlie said with a sad sigh. "It was a necessity, not a triumph."

Ron nodded.

"But I _really_ relished that bastard's death."

"He caused a lot of pain, Charlie," Ron said, reaching over and squeezing his forearm.

"So did that scum in Azkaban, Ron," Charlie said firmly. "Don't let him get into your head. He let you go because it didn't interfere with him running out on his _brotherhood_. If you'd have been standing in his way...he'd have ended you without a second thought."

"Yeah," Ron said heavily, "I know he would've."


	17. Rebuilding

_WARNING – There's sexually explicit material in this chapter. If it makes you uncomfortable skip this chapter. This isn't even remotely pornographic but this is fan fic dot net and they don't go in for anything like that here so it's pretty mild compared to what I usually write._

_Please, if anyone has a problem with what I've written, please contact ME before thinking about complaining. This isn't sex for cheap thrills; this is a person who was molested trying to come back to normality. Thanks_

**Rebuilding**

The door opened and Marie Finnigan looked at her son as if she'd been expecting him for ages.

"Howiya Ma?" He said with a bowed head.

"I'm fine son. Come on in, the tea's just brewed."

"Have yeh any Hob-Nobs?"

"Now what would I be buyin' Hob-Nobs fer when there's nobody here te eat them?" Marie said as she lifted down a packet of digestives from the kitchen cupboard and set them on the table.

"Ya could get then in fer when I come visit yeh," Fergus suggested.

"This is the first time y've come visitin' me since ye left."

"Well I'm sure I'd stop by more if ye got some Hob-Nobs in." he grinned cheekily.

"I'll 'Hob' yer 'Nob' young man!" Marie said as she waggled a teaspoon at him.

Fergus snorted with laughter before lunging forward and grabbing his mother into a fierce hug. Marie clung to her son and they squeezed each other tightly.

"I'm sorry Ma!" Fergus said into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I didn't make enough of a fuss of yeh." Marie replied, muffled into his chest.

They broke apart as quickly as they had come together. Fergus taking a deep, bracing breath, and Marie turning away to pour the tea.

"Don't be silly ya daft auld boot." He muttered as he sat down.

"Well I thought ya might like bein' treated normal after all that fuss. Ya were still a mouthy little gobshite ta me though. I'll make ye pay fer that another day."

"Haven't I suffered enough Ma?" Fergus pouted, "I've no Hob-Nobs fer Merlin's sake."

* * *

Ron led Hermione into his bedroom by the hand and closed the door behind them. Hermione was looking at him in that way of hers. He knew she was about to tell him they shouldn't be rushing into anything and raised a hand to silence her before lighting a lamp on the bedside table and then dimming it so they had just enough light to see each other. 

"I'm not rushing," Ron said as he pulled his t shirt over his head and threw it to one side, "I just don't want to do this...without you." He winced, cringed and looked down at his hands as they fumbled to unbutton his jeans.

"It's okay Ron; I'd like to be involved." Hermione said as she unbuttoned her shirt and let it slid off her shoulders.

Ron eased his jeans over the curve of his arse, the only meat he really had on his scrawny body, and watched as Hermione shimmied out of her skirt.

"I don't want to think of you in the bathroom and feel it. I want to be with you when I feel it, feel the need."

"Go ahead Ron," Hermione smiled, "I want to see you when you do it."

Ron pushed down his orange undies and stepped out of them, kicking them away and gently caressing his dick as he watched her unclasp the hooks of her bra and take it off. The lamp light gave their skin a golden glow. Ron was breathing deeply and rubbing rhythmically, picking up speed and biting his bottom lip, while Hermione slid her thumbs into her knickers and pushed them down.

"I love you," Ron whispered as he braced himself the wall beside him, turning his head to keep Hermione in sight.

"I love you too," Hermione whispered back as she began touching herself, "you look so blissful like this. Don't be embarrassed, just let go."

Ron began making sounds of excitement and release at the back of his throat as he pumped his fist...

* * *

Fergus flooed into the living room and carried a big bundle with him. 

"Ma?" He called out, tripping over the edge of the rug.

"I'm here Mr observant!" his mother said as she tapped him on the shoulder, "And that had better not be bleedin' washing Fergus Finnigan."

Fergus' eyes widened as he looked down at the bundle and then looked up again. He grinned, insanely.

"I didn't bring me cloths round fer ye ta _wash_!" He said as if his mother was an idiot, "I just brough them with me ta...keep the moths off 'em."

His Mum snorted and grabbed the bundle from his arms. She wandered through to the kitchen and dropped everything into a big steel bucket and flicked her wand at it to fill it with hot, soapy water.

"_Agito!"_ she said and the water and clothing began swirling around slowly.

"Now if they really were clean clothes I'da been right cheesed off wi'ya Ma!" Fergus grinned cockily.

"I don't know why son," the woman said as she poured her boy a cuppa, "Ya come outta the shower with a layer of filth all over ye!"

"Mother!" Fergus said in mock horror, "I'm hurt now, I am! The only t'ing that'll make it upta me would be...maybe some Hob-Nobs."

"I told ya, I _have_ no Hob-Nobs!"

"Still?" Fergus exclaimed, genuinely offended.

"Well I haven't had a chance ta go to the shops since ya came by." His mother explained.

Fergus pouted.

"You put that lip away young fella, I'm doin' ya washin' aren't I?"

"I'd do me own washin' if I had a Hob-Nob!"

* * *

Ron waited until he knew Harry was asleep and slipped out of bed. He tip-toed across the room and then crept downstairs to the living room. 

He lit a lamp and then tried to sexily dishevel his hair without it looking as if he'd done anything to it on purpose. The fireplace blazed with green flames and Ron squealed and jumped backwards. He fell over the coffee table and onto the sofa. Hermione stepped out of the flames and giggled at the sight of him, legs sprawled across the table and cushion leaning against his head.

"Um," Ron said with an embarrassed smile, "you made me jump!"

The flames faded behind Hermione and he could see more than just her silhouette now. She was wearing a lilac dressing gown over one of Ron's tatty old Cannons t shirts; it was so long on her it looked like a mini dress.

"Wow," Ron said as he struggled to get up.

Hermione flushed in the face and grabbed one of his flailing arms by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

"You're looking at me as if I'm wearing a sexy outfit or something!"

Ron was still gazing at her and forgot the table was behind him again, he overbalanced and Hermione pushed him down to sit on it with a laugh. Ron grinned up at her.

"You are sexy," he said as he settled his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him.

Hermione raked her fingers through his hair, stooped, and kissed his forehead.

"I really don't think we should be doing this here Ron."

His hands pushed up the hem of the orange t shirt and exposed her cotton knickers and soft tummy. He leaned forward and kissed the smooth skin around her navel.

"You want to risk Harry waking up?" he whispered.

Hermione was about to keep protesting when Ron's hands slid around and squeezed her buttocks. She sighed and moaned as Ron pulled her even closer and trailed kisses along her hip bone.

"No hurry, remember?" Hermione squeaked.

"Nice and slow," Ron said, voice low and relaxed as his thumbs hooked into her knickers and slithered them down her thighs.

He kissed her legs apart and slid both hands back up her legs. Hermione was gripping his hair and closing her eyes. Ron slipped two of his long fingers inside her and began rubbing. Hermione bent over, breasts pressing against the top of his head, and grabbed a handful of his t shirt and began pulling it up his body and over his head. The crumpled top dangled from the arm that was busy easing in and out...in and out...round in small circles back and forth.

"Oh God that's so good. God I love you. God...God...GOD!"

"Calling out another bloke's name isn't a turn on Hermione," Ron smirked before kissing her belly button and then plunging his tongue inside just as he bent and straightened his fingers inside her.

"Oh..._you!_" Hermione gasped, slapping him limply on his bare back and then dragging her fingers across his freckled skin, "I want you, more of you."

"Okay," Ron whispered into her wet, glistening skin, "I wanna give you everything."

Hermione drew in a tremulous breath as Ron slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue. Hermione made a throaty sound of pure ecstasy and grabbed a handful of his hair and pushed herself into him.

* * *

Fergus showed up at his mother's front door, he couldn't use the floo because of the bunch of flowers he'd brought her, and knocked despite having a key. He saw the shape of her getting closer through the rippled glass of the door and straightened up. She opened the door and stared at him in shock. 

"Afternoon Ma," he said with a gracious smile and a slight nod, "I've brought ye some Gladioli to thank ye fer doin' me washin'."

"So yeh have!" she said in astonishment.

"Well take em then!" Fergus said with annoyance.

His mother laughed at getting a more Fergus-like reaction from her son and took the bouquet from him. Fergus stooped down and picked up a large potted plant and held it before him.

"Another one?" she said in amazement.

"This is a dwarf rose, it won't die like the Gladdies," Fergus said primly, "and I got it teh remind ye of Gran."

The witch looked puzzled and cradled the flowers in the crook of her arm before taking the flower pot with her free hand.

"Me Ma?" She asked as she looked at the blood red buds and the tiny stems and leaves.

"Yeah," Fergus nodded, smirking slightly, "didn't ya hear me before? It's a _dwarf rose_!"

His mother's eyes sparkled with life and mischief and argument, all the things she loved best, and Fergus cackled.

"My Ma was _not_ a dwarf Fergus Finnigan!"

"She was four foot seven!"

"She was ninety, people shrink!"

Fergus laughed even more.

"Oh yer lucky I have me hands full ya little bollix," she warned, breaking into chortles herself.

Fergus looked very pleased with himself and leaned over to grab something he'd hidden beside the doorframe.

"Oh Merlin on a tricycle, what've ya got now?" His mother said, eyes widening and hands full.

He heaved a huge sack of floo powder over his shoulder and nodded for her to get out of the way so he could lug it inside.

"I got ya enough of this teh gossip with yer friends all day and night without running out before ye've had a chance to nag me!"

She stepped aside, still clutching her floral tributes, and beamed at him.

"So this means yer gonna tell me ya floo address then?"

"Of course!" Fergus said as he dumped the sack in the corner of the kitchen, beside the back door, "Just throw in a handful and call for the eejits!"

The woman howled with laughter and Fergus dusted himself down, clapped his hands together, and looked around the kitchen.

"So," he said brightly, "do I get me Hob-Nobs _now?_"

* * *

Harry was at Ginny's place until ten and Ron and Hermione had been kissing on Ron's bed for nearly an hour, with occasional breaks for stroking and hugging, before Hermione finally made the proposition Ron had been dreading. 

"I could pay you back for last night," she whispered into his mouth, lips curling up at the corners.

Ron moaned and wrapped his arms tightly around her, inhaling the scent of her mass of hair as it surrounded his face.

"You don't have to." He said, turning his head and kissing her neck.

"I _want_ to," she said as she clutched handfuls of Ron's Chudley Canons sweatshirt and exposed more of her neck to his swollen lips.

"We don't have to take tur-turns," Ron mumbled as he pushed her flat onto his bed and ran his hands down her body, rumpling her clothes even more than he already had done, "I can make you feel good again."

Hermione grabbed him about the shoulders to keep him hovering directly above her face rather than slithering down her body as he was about to do.

"What is it?" she said worriedly, "We can stop if you need to, we can slow right down or we can stop."

Ron smiled down at her and lowered himself to kiss her lips.

"I don't need to stop, I love this," he kissed her deeper, "I love you," and deeper still.

"You stuttered Ron," Hermione said as she tenderly stroked his cheek, "you've never stuttered while we were like this with each other. Please don't push yourself; I couldn't stand it if you were making yourself do this when you didn't really want to."

Ron rolled off her and thudded down on the bed at her side. They both stared at the ceiling and Ron felt at his side for her hand. He interlaced their fingers and rested his head upon her shoulder.

"You have no idea how much I want to."

Hermione settled her head against his and sighed.

"It's okay, shhhh, don't fret about it."

"But I _really_ want to, I want you," Ron said, squeezing her hand, "it's just...we've been at this for an hour and I can't make myself...I can't get it to...it won-"

"Have you spoken to Madam Boo about it?"

"I think she's guessed but I haven't gone into it with her. I don't want her to tell me I'm impotent because of that fucker."

"Ron you know you're not," Hermione said calmly, "you know from the bathroom you're not. I saw you the other night, I watched you."

Ron rolled over and moulded his body into her side. She curled her arm around him and stroked his hair soothingly.

"But what if you can't ever touch me like that?" he said sadly, "What if I can't ever touch you that way?"

"I love the ways you touch me, all of them, and all I want is for you to enjoy our time together like this."

Ron propped himself up on his elbow and pushed her hair back from her face.

"Maybe there's a potion I could take."

"No!" Hermione said firmly, sitting up and resting her forehead against his so their eyes were boring into each other, "I don't want a forced stimulus. I don't think that's healthy Ron. Your body, your mind, they're telling you that you're not ready and you shouldn't override that message."

"But I _really_ do want you Hermione," he said desperately.

"You've got me Ron. You'll always have me? You had me the second I saw your dirty face and wanted to clean you up."

He snorted and she joined him in his quiet giggles.

When Harry came back they'd fallen asleep, fully clothed, their feet resting on the pillow.

* * *

Fergus stepped out of the fireplace and felt something crunch beneath his foot. He looked down and saw a circular pile of flattened crumbs ground into the carpet. He looked a few inches further along the carpet and saw another, uncrushed biscuit, then another and another, all leading out of the living room and down the hall into the kitchen. 

He laughed and stooped to gather up the biscuits from the floor as he followed the trail. There were milk chocolate Hob-Nobs, caramel and hazelnut Hob-Nobs, plain chocolate Hob-Nobs, ordinary oaty Hob-Nobs and special limited edition tangy orange Hob-Nobs.

As Fergus reached the kitchen door he looked up and saw that the table was stacked high with Hob-Nobs, large and small, in the shape of Hogwarts Castle.

"Jaysis Ma, y've gone insane!" Fergus gasped to himself.

"Well ya asked for 'em," his mother said as he rose up on tip toes on the other side of the oaty construction and waved.

"How long did _this_ take yeh?" He exclaimed in astonishment.

"It only too us a few hours," his mother shrugged.

"Us?" Fergus frowned.

Julie Painter suddenly peeped between two turrets and beamed at him while Floella Jordan shoved him in the back and forcibly sat him down at the table with a wide grin.

"Tuck in boy, we're going to floo call Molly to describe the look on your face!"

Fergus was still staring at them as if they were a bunch of strangers, lunatics, running riot in his mother's house. The three women cackled wildly before reaching into the giant sack of floo powder and throwing handfuls into the flames.

"Neither of you do things by halves do you Marie?" Julie said as she looked from Hob-Nob architecture to lifetime supply of floo powder.

"Not on yer life!" Fergus' mother said proudly as he winked at her son.

* * *

Ron and Hermione walked hand in hand down the corridor towards Madam Boo's office in silence. 

As they reached her door Ron took a deep breath and looked down at Hermione apprehensively. She smiled and hugged him before rising up on her tiptoes and kissing him on the lips.

"It's going to be alright."

"It's gonna be humiliating," Ron groaned.

"It's going to be _fine_!" Hermione said confidently.

They hugged again and Hermione rubbed her hand up and down his back. They eased apart from each other and brushed their lips together, then pushed firmly, then parted their lips and hummed into a third kiss before Ron heaved another weary sigh and leaned back against the wall beside the boor.

"Here goes then." He said with great reluctance.

Hermione lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it with a proud smile.

"I'll be right outside. You'll be okay Ron."

He forced a smile onto his face and pushed himself away from the wall, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and knocked on Madam Boo's door.


	18. Fainites

**Fainites**

Floella stepped out of the fireplace and into her living room, still chuckling and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, and she froze when she saw Lee in the process of levitating her three piece suite.

"What are you doing child?" a puzzled Floella asked.

"I'm having a clear-out," Lee said with a shrug, "where've you been?"

"I was just helping Marie take the Mickey out of her boy."

Lee grinned and almost dropped the sofa. Floella drew her wand and steadied his unstable load.

"Woops!" Lee said as he settled everything back down again, "Maybe I should just move one thing out at a time eh?"

"Why are you moving my furniture out in the first place? Are you evicting me?" Floella blinked.

A door that she'd never seen in her living room before opened and Fred and George Weasley stepped through and looked very pleased with themselves.

"Ah, brilliant!" George grinned before turning to shake his brother's hand.

"Told you so," Fred said smugly before looking around the living room and then at Lee with some confusion, "Blimey Lee, haven't you cleared us a space yet?"

"I was but..." Lee nodded sideways towards his mother, who was now standing with her hands on her hips and waiting for an explanation.

"Mrs Jordan!" George said, exuding his best charming smile.

"Oh great," Fred blinked, "you're here! You can tell us where you want all your stuff moved to."

"I didn't want my stuff moved anywhere boys," she said as she put a hand to her face and wondered what on earth Lee needed an extra door for.

George looked at Lee and nodded for him to explain to his mother. Lee cleared his throat and Fred shoved him forwards with a 'she's _your_ mother' smirk on his face.

"Well Fred and George have installed this door into the living room y'see?"

"And immediately it's our fault!" Fred groaned as he slumped against the wall with a sigh.

George chuckled and slapped Lee around the back of the head.

"They installed a door in the wall because it takes up less room than a vanishing cabinet y'see, I asked them to make it a door instead...thinking of you and your limited space mum." Lee smiled at his mother with hope.

Floella arched an eyebrow cautiously and took a step forward.

"What do you three boys want with a vanishing cabinet?"

"Well we don't want it for vanishing," George said immediately, "no losing of things or people forever, not at all, the vanishing side of things is gone."

"Vanished!" Fred said cheekily.

"I'm still not back in practice handling the two of them together," Lee shrugged to his mother, "give me a moment will you?"

He turned around and glared at the two of them. They both smirked and lowered their heads. Lee returned his attention to Floella and smiled again.

"What it is...The things is...It's like this..." Lee began struggling to explain their ingenious plan.

"We ripped off Malfoy's idea!" George said, head still bowed but face beaming with pride.

"For the good of sports fans all over the country mind you...not so we can break into places and murder people." Fred added, also looking at his feet and chortling.

"Well that's nice to know," Floella said with a fake sigh of relief, "so what _is_ it for?"

"Well we take the other half, the vanishing cabinet, to different Quidditch Pitches all over the league." George explained as he lifted his head once again.

"And then Lee opens this door," Fred opened the new door in Floella's wall to illustrate his words, "and steps through and he comes out of the cabinet and is right there at the match, ready to commentate!"

"See I thought this way I spend less time travelling back and forth to games and if you need me you can step through and poke me in the ribs," Lee said to Floella, hoping she liked the big plan, "and when the cabinet's not at games it's at the twins' place so it'll be like having them as next door neighbours...right on the other side of this door!" Lee said brightly.

Floella's face dropped immediately.

"Or not!" Lee added in a panic.

"He didn't mean you'd be able to hear us banging around!" George explained.

"And by banging around George means creating stuff for the shop and not...you know? Not banging our girlfr-"

"Fred no!" Lee spun and clamped both his hands over his best friend's mouth while the other best friend snorted into the back of his hand.

"Okay, okay," Floella said as she dragged the three of them in turn to the sofa, haphazardly dumped in the middle of the room, and shoved them down onto it, "so Lee will be able to travel the country and visit you and have it bee like he's just in the next room. I get it...but why?"

The three of them all made to answer at the same time, then they all paused and waited for one of the others to continue, then the twins nudged Lee and he went ahead with apprehension.

"Well I kept spending all my time away from home, away from you, and I don't want to be...avoiding you. I want to be a doorway away while I'm working or time wasting with these two."

"Working?" Floella asked.

"Yeah," Fred smiled proudly, "we haven't really honed the audio omniocular commentary thing just yet."

"It just delivers the same 200 phrases according to what's happening on the pitch." George nodded.

"And that doesn't really suit Lee's style does it?" Fred said, scrunching up his nose.

"Because he likes to insult teams and players specifically during the match," George said with complete sincerity.

Lee sniggered but both twins were nodding and looking serious.

Floella folded her arms and tried not to laugh.

"So what have you come up with?" She asked them.

"Well what's going to happen," Lee said as he shuffled forward to perch on the edge of his seat, "is we're going to go to a load of league matches and let the oral Pensieve that George managed to create siphon off my speech patterns..."

"Turn of phrase," Fred, added, "bolshy attitude, offensive language and complete and total bias for one team over the other."

Lee rolled his eyes and Floella laughed before her son carried on.

"Yeah, all that," Lee conceded, "and then mix that up with the kind of magic used to get the essence of a person's personality into a portrait so it can talk to you in the same way the subject would do and somehow make like...a mini portrait of me that has an extendable ear thing so they can listen to my commentary on whatever match they take me too."

"Not you Lee," George added.

"Well no, not actually me but the little portrait me!" Lee said, confusing himself now.

"And as soon as we get it to work we can tinker with it and have a Jordan Cameo-"

"J-cam," Fred interrupted George with his little utterance.

"No, that's shit!" George hissed back before carrying on as if nothing had happened, " –that you can programme not to swear if it's for a little kid or that can learn the stats of your favourite team so a person who takes it to Wasp match after Wasp match will end up with a Cameo that is like a expert-"

"And a fan," Fred added.

"-and a fan of the Wasps."

"But it's gonna take about a year to get the prototype done so don't get excited," Lee said with a downbeat shrug.

Floella looked at her boy with swelling pride. He was doing something with himself. He was making plans. He was making plans that went way into the future. She was so happy for him.

"What d'you think?" Lee asked her, nervously.

"I think you'd better give your first ever Jordan Cameo to Ron." She grinned.

"Yeah!" Fred said, eyes wide with mischief, "But make it a Tornadoes loving one so it laughs at him whenever the Canons lose!"

George and Lee both clouted Fred about the back of the head and Floella shook her head and sighed.

"Come now Fred, would you really do that to your brother?" She said, knowingly.

"Yes!" All three of them nodded.

* * *

Ron was fidgeting like mad in his seat and Madam Boo was smiling patiently at him.

"So, are we gonna start then?" he asked her, fingers drumming against the arm of the chair.

"Whenever you're ready Ron," Boo nodded.

"So what are we talking about today?" Ron said, pulling in his chair and leaning over the desk to look across it at her.

"Whatever you want to talk about." Boo said as she moved aside all the papers, quills and books so she could lean on her side of the desk too.

"Well I didn't know if you had a plan or anything," Ron said as he played with his thumbs, "you usually get me started so I was waiting."

"I get the feeling you know exactly where to begin today's session Ron," Boo said, thoughtfully.

Ron bit his lip and sat up again, then swept some imaginary dust off the spot he'd been hunched over and leaned forward again.

"Well I have something I was gonna talk to you about but I thought we could ease into it after all the usual stuff." He shrugged.

"Oh," Madam Boo said in a business-like fashion, "very well then, let's go through the motions if that makes you more comfortable."

She moved everything back in it's place and then sat back in her chair, crossed her legs and began to stroke her chin thoughtfully.

"How's your stutter today?"

"Hardly there, it's much better thanks!" Ron nodded happily.

"And have you had any more trouble with fuzzy nightmares?"

"Not so bad, not now I do the patronus thing." Ron smiled.

"Any more thoughts about the Death Eater's request?"

"Well no, I was kinda focused on trying to..." Ron began with a thoughtful sigh before pausing, narrowing his eyes, and staring at the woman in impressed annoyance, "Oh you're good!"

"Thank you," Madam Boo beamed and moved all of her things aside once more and leaned over the desk as before, "so you've been focused on what?"

Ron exhaled wearily and propped his head up with one arm.

"I've been trying to have sex with my girlfriend." He groaned.

"Has she been pressuring you for a physical relationship?" Boo asked with concern.

"No," Ron shook his head, "not at all, you have no idea how patient this woman can be when it comes to me."

Boo smiled and raised her eyebrows to encourage him to continue.

"The thing is," Ron said as he pulled his chair right up to the desk and leaned over so they were practically head to head, "I've been really wanting to get more physical with her for a while."

"How so?"

"Well I've been thinking about it _a lot_," Ron said with widening eyes to emphasise his point, "and when I'm alone I think about being with her and I...well," Ron pointed down into his lap, "and I can do that but..."

"You have no trouble with sexual stimulus when you're alone?" Boo clarified.

"I get stiffy when no-one's around," Ron said, simplifying even further.

Boo cleared her throat and gave another small nod of encouragement.

"Carry on."

"So I thought that we could try to, y'know? I wanted to share my stimulus with her because it's because of her and I love her and she's gorgeous and we've waited...we've waited so long." Ron's shoulders fell and he looked down at the desk, "I just want to be with her."

"Have you spoken to her about your needs?"

Ron snorted and looked up again, sheepishly.

"I tried to dry hump her leg," he said as he rolled his eyes, "that kind of opened the way for a conversation about it, yeah!"

Madam Boo struggled not to laugh. Ron smirked at her effort and eventually they both chuckled softly.

"So this dry humping, how did that come about?"

"I was alone and I was hard and then she came in and as soon as she touched me...it was gone. It was like she de-sexitised me. Is that a word?"

"No," Boo said, "but it should be."

Ron relaxed a little more and let out a long deep breath before going on.

"So we've been working on it, baby steps and all that? First we saw to ourselves in front of each other and that went alright. I could get hard in front of her."

"You both masturbated in front of each other?" Madam Boo clarified.

"If you wanna get clinical about it, yeah." Ron shrugged.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Of course I did!" Ron blurted, "Who hates wanking?"

Madam Boo grinned at him and was about to tell him to carry on but he nodded and continued speaking.

"So we tried touching and I couldn't get it up. We've kissed a lot and I've...well I gave Hermione some satisfaction at least. That was great." He smiled and started off into the distance momentarily.

"So there are no problems with you touching her and gratifying her?" Boo asked.

"No it's easy to make her feel good; it's...it's just right." Ron said thoughtfully, "touching her is safe and comforting. It just feels perfectly natural y'know?"

Boo nodded.

"Have you both attempted to stimulate _you_ in the same way?"

Ron sighed and nodded.

"We were really affectionate on my bed last night and I tried for ages and nothing happened. I feel like I've bee neutered."

"I hope not literally Ron?"

Ron smirked before groaning and rubbing his face roughly and then staring across at her with wide blue eyes.

"What if I can't ever get aroused by her touching me? By _anyone_ but myself touching me?"

Madam Boo sat and thought for a while before sitting back in her chair and considering him from afar.

"When you masturbate, do you really focus on the job in hand...if you pardon the pun, and _try_ to do it?"

Ron sniggered before sitting back in his seat and shaking his head.

"Wanking just happens."

"And when you were watching each other 'wanking', were you utterly focused and _trying_ your best then?"

Ron cast his eyes upwards and crinkled his forehead.

"Not that I remember."

"And yet when you were in bed with your girlfriend you were trying very much to become aroused."

"So you're saying don't try? I'm sorry Madam Boo but that's bollocks." Ron grumbled, "I wasn't trying before, when she slept in my bed with me, and nothing happened then."

"Were you ready for intercourse then?"

"Stop talking like that," Ron grimaced, "you make it sound like school!"

She smiled at him and he shuffled in his seat before smirking at her and thinking about what she'd said.

"Well no, sex was the last thing I wanted back then," Ron admitted, "I just wanted her to be with me, hold me as if there was nothing wrong with us and we were normal."

"Can I ask, since you have been sexually active again, have you and Hermione simply slept together like you used to?"

"Well we fell asleep after I couldn't do it last night if that's what you mean."

"That's not what I mean Ron," Boo said as she tilted her head to one side, "I meant have you and your girlfriend planned to do nothing but sleep in each others arms since you first started trying to have sex again?"

"No." Ron said with a blink of comprehension.

"Well maybe you should have the night off and just enjoy each other's comfort and warmth again. Don't try anything tonight and see how you feel in the morning."

Ron broke into a huge grin.

"What?" Madam Boo asked, visibly replaying her last statement back to herself in her head.

"It's just that I get to go home and tell my mum that my Healer's requested I sleep with my girlfriend tonight. She's not gonna like that at all!"

* * *

As it turned out Ron didn't have to deal with telling his mother about Hermione staying over for the sake of his sexual growth. Charlie was leaving for Estonia and there was a huge party at the Burrow.

Harry and Ginny were being as couple-y as they could be and Luna was bewildering Fleur in the corner of the room. The twins were raving to Neville about the Jordan Cameo while trying to recruit him to grow supplies for their organic range. Bill and Percy were trying for forcibly restrain their mother from continually getting up to get people more to eat and drink.

Soon enough Arthur was waving Floella, Julie and Marie over to occupy his wife and give his sons a break. Charlie was laughing at something Seamus was ranting about and Tommy and Fergus were having an animated discussion about Tommy's new job at Hogwarts. Fergus was telling Tommy he knew a man who knew a man who knew a squib who was married to one of the Blott family and they could maybe work on a special deal on school books.

Lee and Ron were having a breather outside, sitting on the garden wall, when Hermione came out to give Ron a pumpkin juice, run her fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head before going back inside to talk to Remus and Tonks.

Lee was staring at Ron as he watched Hermione going back inside.

"It's so good to see you like that," he said as Ron turned back to face him and frowned, "something about you flinching just isn't right."

Ron gave an embarrassed shrug and kicked at the dirt with his tatty trainer.

"There's still something of a flinch, don't worry about that."

Lee looked concerned and put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"What's up?"

Ron laughed and looked up at the wispy white clouds above them.

"Don't pull that face; it's just the last of my crap fading away that's all. I'm okay."

Lee gave Ron a pat on the back and settled back down again.

"Look I'm not going to stalk you again alright?" Lee smiled sheepishly, "You can still tell me things and I won't obsess over being the one to help you."

"Well I'm getting some decent help from that Healer Percy hooked me up with," Ron said, rubbing the end of his nose as if it was being tickled, "She's not what I thought she'd be. She doesn't want to make you cry in front of her and she doesn't tell you what you're feeling. She's pretty funny actually."

"Yeah?" Lee smiled, "Cool. I'm glad you have somebody on the outside who won't overreact to whatever you tell them. It's taken me long enough not to run away from spending time with my own mother to know how much a loved one's concern can make you close off."

"When did you start talking like that?" Ron asked, slightly shocked.

"Like what?" Lee blinked.

"Like you're all sensitive and intellectual," Ron said before placing his hand on Lee's forehead, "are you feeling alright?"

Lee knocked Ron's hand away and laughed with an indignant huff.

"Oh sod off you sarky git! I'm deep, I can emote...I read that pamphlet the Healer gave us when we checked out of St Mungo's."

"You did?" Ron gaped.

"I skimmed over the front cover!" Lee grinned.

Ron laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

"See _that's_ more like you. You sound more like Fred and George now."

"Oh yeah?" Lee smirked, "Does that mean I get to tease you and rile you up and make your ears go bright red?"

Lee began poking Ron in the ribs, ruffling his hair and playfully shoving him off the garden wall.

"Sod off ya insufferable prat!" Ron growled as he grabbed one of Lee's legs and pulled him off the wall and howled with laughter as his dropped onto the soft grass on his bottom with a deep thud.

"You might be bigger but I'm still older!" Lee warned as he flung himself at Ron's legs and tackled him to the ground.

"It doesn't work for Fred, George, Percy and Charlie so it ain't working for you _brother_!" Ron said as he wrestled with Lee on the grass, gnomes running for cover and shaking their tiny fists at them.

Lee tickled Ron under the armpit and Ron made a sound like a five year old girl being given a piggyback ride. Lee immediately withdrew his hand and began exclaiming his disgust about sweaty armpits while wiping his hand on the grass. Ron was still flailing around like an upside down crab until he realised he wasn't being tickled any more and jumped to his feet panting and ready to put Lee in a headlock when he made his next move.

"You are gross Weasley!" Lee said as he got up and sniffed his fingers, "Ever hear of showering?"

"Ever hear of picking on somebody you're own size?" Ron grinned, "Oh wait, Dobby's not here!"

"You git!" Lee gasped and was just about to charge at Ron when Fred's voice called out to him.

"The feet Lee! If you want to tickle him you've got to go for the feet."

"And possibly a gas mask!" George added with a chuckle.

"No, no, no, three against one," Ron backed off further into the field, "that's not fair."

"Three shortarses against one lanky git sounds fair enough to me." Fred smirked.

"Three half men make one and a half so that means I'm entitled to another half a man," Ron said holding up his arms before him warningly before shouting back to the Burrow, "Charlie...help!"

Charlie was watching from the window with Bill and looked indignant.

"Help? You just called me half a man!"

Bill was crying with laughter couldn't offer to take Charlie's place. Percy emerged from the back door and rolled up his sleeves. Ron looked stunned for a moment before his eyes lit up and he looked back at the twins.

"No way, not Percy!" Fred was saying adamantly, "He's a biter!"

"He's _my_ biter," Ron said proudly before slapping Percy on the back as he joined his side, "nice one Perce."

"Hold on, this is still three against two," Harry said as he removed his jumper and jogged over to Ron and Percy in his t-shirt and jeans, "There, that's fair."

"But now you're two whole men against one and a half men." Explained Ginny.

"I'm not that bloody short!" Lee exclaimed.

Ginny stepped up beside him and patted him on top of the head.

"Of course you're not Lee, now you hide behind me and I'll handle that big scary Harry Potter for you."

Hermione flung back her head with laughter while Molly worried that things would get out of hand.

"They have two and a half now, yer a half behind!" Fergus pointed out, "I'll join Ron's side and we're evens then."

"Stop all this half size person stuff, they have one more person and that's cheating!" Fred huffed, "Seamus, come here!"

"Seamus Finnigan I know everywhere yer ticklish so you'd better not!" Fergus warned.

Seamus stepped up beside George and smirked.

"An' I know of a certain spot behind yer knees that renders you a flailing mess of girlishness!" he cackled at his cousin.

Soon the two sides were facing each other. Lee's team had more people but Ron's team were bigger. Molly was now in the middle with a pot and a large spoon, ready to bang tem together and start the tickle war.

"Keep it clean and when somebody says the word '_Fainites_' you are to stop tickling and then the surrenderer...surrenderee...the person who surrendered is to come and sit on the wall with me until the last member of a team gives up."

Everybody nodded their agreement and she banged the spoon against the pot.


	19. Touching

**Touching**

The back garden and surrounding field of the Burrow was in chaos.

There were flailing limbs, screeching, giggling, swearing, grunting and all that was happening was more people were joining in rather than the number gradually reducing as people gave up.

Ron and Hermione were rolling over and over in the long grass, tying to tickle each other in the side, beneath the chin, and every now and then underneath each other's clothes. Hermione's hands lunged for his tummy and he grabbed them out of the air and held them out to their sides so she wasn't able to do anything with them. He sniggered at her before realising that this position forced their chests together and they were practically rubbing noses.

"Gotcha," Ron whispered into her face as she stared back at him, red in the cheeks.

"Yes you do," Hermione nodded.

It wasn't clear who reached for who but their mouths came together and soon they were snogging as if the other's lungs were their only source of air. They disappeared deep within the long grass and moaned into each other's mouths. Ron's large hand slid along the length of Hermione's arm and then brushed against her breast. She smiled against his lips and Ron chuckled and squeezed her boob.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle!" He giggled playfully.

Hermione's laugh turned into a purr as she raked her fingers down his back and grabbed two generous handfuls of Ron's buttocks and began to knead them as if they were two firm mounds of dough.

"C'mere," Hermione said as she pulled his body flat against hers and then plunged her tongue into his mouth.

Ron began sucking on her tongue and pushing his long fingers into her wild hair. There were stray pieces of dry grass sticking out of it, making her look like a sexy scarecrow, and she was moving her tongue against his while massaging their lips together.

His other hand began to snake its way underneath her top, her soft skin against his rougher palm. Hermione pushed one of her hands under Ron's waistband to feel the soft succulent flesh of his arsecheek. Suddenly something made them jump and push away from each other.

"What was? Was that..._you_?" Hermione gasped as she looked at Ron's bulging jeans.

His eyes were wide and shocked, he gulped and moved his hips a little, squirming inside his loose jeans, and then he gave an amazed nod.

"It's me!"

Hermione slowly lifted her hand towards Ron's groin and ever so softly cupped the tented area in his jeans.

"Were you thinking about us doing it right here?" Hermione asked him with astonished brown eyes.

"No!" Ron began loudly before lowering his tone and his head so the grass kept him hidden, "My parents and all my brothers are just over there. This isn't really the appropriate place for a hard-on y'know?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment before snorting in a very un-Hermione-like way and clamping her hand over her mouth. Then she choked on a swallowed laugh again. Then she dissolved into fits of uncontrollable hysterics and Ron collapsed into a heap with her and guffawed.

"I think we've got a draw over here!" Harry said as he stood over them, blocking the sun with his body and casting a shadow over the two of them, "You're both out!"

"Okay, okay," Hermione giggled, holding up her hands, "we surrender."

"Well go and sit on the wall then!" a heavily panting Fred said as he staggered past them with George hanging off his shoulders, trying to tickle him and shake him off at the same time.

"Hey aren't you on the same team?" Ron frowned.

"Don't procrastinate so you can sneak back into the game you," Harry warned Ron with a waggle of the finger, "on the garden wall _now!_"

Ron sat up on his elbows and grinned sheepishly at Harry.

"Would I be able to get up and go over there in a minute or two maybe?" He suggested, "After I've thought a bit about McGonagall teaching History of Magic to Grawp and...got myself together a bit? Maybe?"

Harry looked at Ron's lap and then looked away, blushing furiously.

"Sorry!"

He ran away from the two of them faster than they'd ever seen him move in his whole life and fall right over a flailing Bill. Ron chortled and looked to Hermione.

"Fainites." He smiled.

"Yeah," she nodded and kissed him on the cheek.

* * *

Hermione was brushing her hair and struggling to weave it into a plait while chattering away as she watched Ron stroking Pig's feathers.

"...because the thing is with people who have never taken risks or suffered any losses because of that very lifestyle choice is that they don't know how to imagine themselves in your situation Ron. They can sympathise but not empathise; do you know what I mean?"

Ron tickled Pig and the little owl hooted and flapped his wings, landing atop Ron's head and burying his face in Ron's hair. Ron chuckled and looked back at Hermione.

"Who's feeling sorry for who?" He blinked at her, expression content but blank.

"I was just talking about the negative reaction you received from a small minority of the outside world."

"Small but vocal," Ron said with a shrug of resignation before looking up and grinning as the new angle of his head tipped Pig off and set him flapping around and around Ron's head like a feathered brown halo, "like you eh Pig?"

Hermione set her brush down and pulled back the bedcovers, still nattering away as if Ron was being attentive.

"You see I get the feeling they experienced the war, both the big wizarding wars, as exciting news in the Prophet rather than something happening to real human beings and that could ultimately affect their own lives. The fact that it wasn't happening on their doorstep and nobody was targeting or recruiting their family made it unreal."

Ron grabbed Pig out of the air and set him on his perch before frowning at Hermione.

"Is this conversation supposed to have something to do with me or are you just thinking aloud?"

Hermione wriggled her legs beneath the covers and lay on her side, head propped up by her crooked elbow on the pillow.

"I'm trying to understand and explain the public reaction to you, to all the survivors," Hermione said as she gazed at the wall over Ron's shoulder thoughtfully, "There was this thrilling story in the paper and then the thrilling trial and all its thrilling revelations and thrilling hearsay and unsubstantiated gossip and then it was all over and there were four people going back into the world to live as normal people."

Ron snorted and sat down on the bed, kicking off his unlaced trainers and pulling his sweatshirt over his head.

"And there was no more news for those people leading their sheltered boring lives," Hermione said with a frown, "They must have thought that you owed them closure. Maybe to the public...they might possibly have thought that this whole saga needed a proper ending. Not necessarily a happy ending but a conclusive ending."

"Okay, I'm just going to nod at everything you say and possibly fall asleep before you're done so don't get cross alright?" Ron said with a smile as he lifted the covers and slipped underneath beside her.

Hermione kissed him absently on the cheek and snuggled into his side, arms wrapping around him as they settled down comfortably.

"Because you weren't punching the air and whooping over the fact you made it through. You declined the Ministry medals and press conferences and interviews. When news filtered through that you were all having trouble adjusting...well I think the public got cross because that's not how Guilderoy Lockheart told them all true heroes behave."

"Git," Ron grumbled into Hermione's neck.

"Harry had delivered after all," Hermione said with a sad sigh as she remembered how weary Harry had become the perfect model of a saviour, his face on commemorative souvenirs and a day named after him, every baby boy born that year was called Harry and he spent every waking moment shaking hands with important people and becoming a public figure of nobility and heroism until he heard about Ron's capture and told the Minister to sod off and not dare to ask anything of him while Ron's life was in danger.

"Where is Harry?" Ron frowned and lifted his head, blearily looking at the bedroom door as if his question would summon Harry immediately to answer it.

"Snogging Ginny," Hermione said flippantly, "then these four survivors of a huge massacre escaped and came home and brought the last of the Death Eaters to justice and...you didn't play the game. You were hurt and scared and angry and you didn't feel proud of yourselves for killing people, not that Harry was proud of himself for killing Voldemort but that's the spin the public were sold. Murder of bad people is good and should be celebrated and you were all subdued and closed off and you didn't smile for pictures or tell '_your side of the story'_ to interested parties."

"I told Luna I would give her my recipe for chocolate cornflake nests," Ron said with a lazy smile, "she said she'd save it for the Easter edition of The Quibbler."

Hermione stroked Ron's hair and smiled down at him as his eyes fell closed. She kissed the top of his head and made room for him to snuggle into the crook of her shoulder.

"You are adorable do you know that?"

"Mmm-hmm," he nodded, wrapping an arm and a leg around her body loosely, "g'wan...you were talking about why people are stupid."

"Not all people, not even most people, just the people who take it upon themselves to send Howlers and say nasty things to you on the street. People who have their own guilt because they didn't suffer and didn't contribute anything to the war against Voldemort want to tear into some heroes. People in this country love nothing more than knocking people off their pedestal and nobody's stupid enough to try to bad mouth Harry so they went for you instead, all of you."

"Harry's gonna be the new Merlin...I read that in a magazine last week," Ron muttered lazily, "article sounded really pissed off that he was still alive. Apparently you can't be a martyr if you live happily ever after."

Hermione laughed weakly.

"This is exactly your problem Ron," Hermione said as her eyes flooded, "the whole world would adore you if you'd died in there."

The room was silent and Hermione tried to keep herself from shaking with hurt and anger.

"You had everything a good martyr needed except for the excruciating death. You wouldn't die. You wouldn't give up. You refused to be a legend and stayed a real life human being and God forbid one of the people who saved us all was only human."

"Wi' strawberry jam!" Ron said, brow furrowed in his sleep and finger waving before his face to brush away a stray strand of Hermione's hair that was tickling his nose.

Hermione smiled at her sleep waffling boyfriend and thanked everything she believed in and even several things she didn't that Ron wasn't a martyr at all. Ron was better than that, he was a man.

He was her man.

* * *

"So how was last night Ron?" Madam Boo asked him as he poured himself a glass of gillywater.

"It was good," he nodded, "we just talked, well _she_ talked and I fell asleep but it was still good."

Boo laughed and leaned over her desk, flicking a speck of something or other off the blotter before tapping on the desk with her index finger, thoughtfully.

"You know Ron, some believe that putting a desk between you and the person you're talking to creates a barrier between you and makes communication harder."

Ron looked at the desk and his eyebrows knitted together in deep concentration.

"I like it." He said eventually before looking up and nodding to reaffirm his opinion, "I like having something to lean on when I talk to you. If we were just sitting in chairs facing each other I'd get all fidgety...more than usual I mean."

Boo looked pleased with herself and reached into a small pot and lifted out a blunt pencil. She extended her arm and offered it to him.

"Would you like to play with this while you talk? I've noticed you become more open when your hands are occupied."

Ron took the pencil with a smirk.

"So back to the wanking eh?"

Boo rolled her eyes and Ron cackled.

"Did you have a peaceful night together then?" She asked him, getting back on track.

"Yeah, slept like hibernating badgers," Ron shrugged before frowning, "Do badgers hibernate?"

"And in the morning?" Boo pressed on with her questioning.

"Well in the morning we stopped sleeping and started being awake," Ron said, being facetious and loving it.

"Morning glory?" Madam Boo asked, not willing to play games any more.

"Nope," Ron said, gouging the pencil into a groove he'd made in the desk on a previous visit.

"Not even in the bathroom afterwards? Not when Hermione wasn't with you?"

"No," Ron said, "No sex, no sexy feelings, no sexual fantasies, no-"

"Rape flashbacks?" Boo offered up.

"No," Ron said sternly.

Boo sat in silence for a moment, watching Ron pushing the blunt pencil deeper and deeper into the groove as his mouth grew tight and his eyes narrowed with the focus he was putting into his distraction.

"Was it nice to have a break from the pressure to have sex Ron?"

Ron slammed down the pencil on the desk and glared at her.

"I've told you _loads_ of times alread-ready!" Ron snapped angrily, "Hermione has never once pressured me to have sex. She wouldn't, she didn't and she won't."

"I didn't say the pressure was coming from her." Boo said coolly.

Ron sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest.

"Any clue what you're going to do about the Death Eater's request?" she said as she took back her pencil and began to sharpen it, avoiding eye contact with Ron who was already looking everywhere but at her.

"Draw lots maybe? Leave him a rope so he ca-can do himself in? Who fucking cares?" Ron growled.

"You 'fucking' care because you're 'fucking' stuttering again," Boo said, looking right at him, her strong gaze not letting him turn his eyes away this time.

"You're not supposed to swear at the patients are you?" He asked; unsure whether he felt defensive or impressed.

"You're not my patient Ron." Boo said as she began to put her things away.

"So what am I?" he asked her, unfolding his arms and leaning forward.

"You're taking your sexual frustration out on me and I'm ending the session for today." Boo said calmly, "Tonight I want you to sleep with your girlfriend again and not have sex. Come and see me tomorrow and we'll try this again."

Ron shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Are you angry with me?"

"I am not judging you and I have no unpleasant feelings towards you Ron but we have reached a point today that can only descend into damaging territory. I want our talks to be constructive and not _destructive."_

"Look, I'm sorry bu-" Ron began as he got out of his chair.

"Don't be sorry, don't feel guilty," Boo said as she softened towards him slightly, "just take another day off trying to be sexual and...make a sandwich with three different layers and share it with the first person who complements it."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, looking at her as if she'd cracked.

"Well do something else then but do something different, yet sane, yet innocent. Do something like, weeding the garden, making your mother a cup of tea and talking to her about what you were like when you were a baby, I'm sure she'd love that."

Ron groaned and looked to the ceiling.

"Oh Merlin she'd never stop!"

Boo smiled again on hearing this.

"Lighten the load again and sleep with your girlfriend and then come back and see if you can handle that conversation any better tomorrow okay?"

Ron sighed and nodded.

"Okay."

* * *

"and...um...Lynx!" Hermione said proudly, "There you go, that was five words without any vowels I told you I could do it."

Ron applauded and sniggered.

"You know how to impress a man in the bedroom Hermione," he giggled.

Hermione beamed and gave him a playful shove. He fell back on the bed and she grabbed her pillow and raised it to strike before rolling her eyes at the amused look on his face and leaned over to kiss him on his smiling lips. She set the pillow back down and laid her head upon it, still looking at him, and Ron rolled onto his side to face her.

"All right then," she said primly, stroking his fringe out of his eyes so she could see them a little better, "give me five palindromes."

Ron blinked.

"Is that like a dirty limerick?" He frowned.

"No! It's a word which is spelled the same backwards as well as forwards, like the name Hannah, that's a palindrome."

Ron gaped at her.

"That's well hard!" He exclaimed indignantly, "Mine wasn't as hard as that."

"What five words with no vowels is easy is it?" Hermione teased him.

Ron narrowed his eyes and tutted before biting his lip thoughtfully.

"So...you mean like the word poop then yeah?" He asked her as he considered his options.

"Yes, that's number one," Hermione nodded, "poop is the same whatever way you read it."

Ron sniggered and Hermione gave a resigned sigh to his childishness.

"Okay then...um...boob!"

Hermione laughed.

"You know the object is really to strive for more than just four letter words Ron!"

"Fine," Ron said with a mischievous look on his face, how's this for number three then? _Wow_!"

Hermione threw back her head and laughed just as Harry entered the bedroom and looked at them with a curious smile.

"Hi Harry," Ron said proudly, "I'm being stupid and clever at the same time!"

"Wow!" Harry grinned.

"Indeed!" Ron nodded as he turned to look smugly at Hermione

"Oh get on with it, number four, come on." Hermione dug Ron in the ribs with her finger and Ron squirmed and squeaked at her exploiting his ticklish spot.

"What is it you're doing?" Harry asked as he sat on his bed, watching them.

"Planetdrones!" Ron said while Hermione struggled to correct him while fighting off a giggle fit that was caused by Ron fingers at the small of her back.

"Right," Harry nodded in bewilderment before removing his shoes and socks and gesturing for Ron to turn Hermione's attention away from him as he got ready for bed.

"Number four, come on, the clock is ticking!" Hermione chuckled.

"Wait up; I didn't set a clock for you madam!" Ron huffed.

"And that was your first mistake!" Hermione said slyly.

"Okay, right, two more...um...uhhhh..."

"Tick tock, tick tock..." Hermione said as she waved her finger from side to side before him.

"Tit!" Ron said as he grabbed her finger, eyes sparkling.

"No more three letter words either!" Hermione huffed, "One more and it's got to be a proper one."

Ron thought hard and Harry climbed into his own bed, watching them both with interest. Ron sat up in bed and looked very focused all of a sudden. Hermione glanced at Harry with concern and gradually sat up too, stroking her hand up his bare back soothingly.

"What is it Ron?" She asked him softly.

"Shhh," Ron said as he closed his eyes and concentrated hard on something.

Harry shifted in his bed and drew in a breath to say something but Ron raised a finger and whispered to both of them.

"_Stil_!"

Hermione paled and her eyes were wide as she looked at Harry and wondered what to do, what she had done to suddenly bring Ron into a regressive state.

"_MEETSYSTEEM!"_ Ron said triumphantly before opening his eyes and grinning at Hermione.

"What?" Hermione asked him as she clutched his hand and looked up into his blazing blue eyes.

"Ron its okay, you're alright mate." Harry said as he slipped out of bed and crossed the room to perch on the edge of Ron's mattress.

Ron looked from one of them to the other with a puzzled smile before tutting and rolling his eyes. He gave a short laugh of resignation and clouted Harry around the back of the head before looking at Hermione with raised eyebrows.

"Meetsysteem is Dutch for measuring system. It's the same backwards as well as forward. I just learned it in advanced Dutch lessons."

Hermione gaped at him and Harry gave a growl of annoyance at having been worried for no reason. The two of them launched themselves at him and wrestled on the bed warning Ron off ever worrying them like that again.

"What's the bloody problem?" Ron complained as he muffled Harry's words with a pillow, "it was eleven letters...that's impressive that is!"

* * *

Ron shifted and yawned as the sound of Harry padding out of the room to the bathroom woke him up. He rubbed at his bleary eyes and saw Hermione smiling at him serenely.

"Were you watching me sleep?" he smiled lazily.

She nodded.

"Finally run out of books to read and gone mad eh?" He teased before wriggling forward and kissing her on the end of her nose.

Just as he was about to chuckle and she was about to speak they both froze and their eyes widened. Ron squeaked and Hermione clamped both her hands over his mouth.

"Shh! Don't...you'll scare it away!" She whispered as they both looked down nervously.

They couldn't see anything, they were snuggled against each other and covered with a sheet after all, but they could both feel it.

"What should we do?" Ron whispered back.

"I don't know," Hermione responded with a shrug, "What did Madam Boo say you should do when this happened?"

"She didn't say it was gonna happen at all!" Ron said, struggling to keep his voice as low as possible.

"Well," Hermione thought for a moment before offering a suggestion, "maybe I should get out and leave you alone to deal with it."

"But I don't need to be alone to deal with it. We've dealt with it with you here before, that's not the problem!" Ron frantically spoke in hushed tones.

"Alright then, what if...What if I tried to do it for you?" She offered.

"Oh you old romantic you!" Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Well you deal with it and I'll stay right here with you then. I'm sure you're supposed to do something with it."

"It's not a stray cat!" Ron hissed.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before crumpling into giggles. Ron's shoulders lost their tension too and he sniggered into her neck.

"Oh what are we like?" Hermione sighed.

"A round hole and a round peg who are wondering what to do with each other!" Ron muttered into her hair.

Hermione giggled even more. They stopped laughing and Ron stroked her bushy hair with his large hand. Hermione leaned in close and kissed him on the lips before letting her hand slip beneath the sheets, down his flat stomach and just touched his copper curls before Ron closed his eyes and began whimpering to himself angrily.

"No, no, no you bastard, just a little longer, please!"

As Hermione curled her fingers loosely around Ron's penis is was limp in her hand. Ron groaned and slumped back onto the bed beside her.

"Oh well...easy come easy go!"

* * *

Ron bounded into Madam Boos' office without pausing to knock and slammed both palms flat on her desk as he leaned over it and looked into her startled eyes with his own large, pleading ones.

"I got a hard on this morning and me and my girlfriend didn't know what to do with it! We just whispered until it went away. You never said that would happen. You never told me what we should do if that happened. What do I do?"

Madam Boo looked at Ron with more sympathy than he'd ever seen in her eyes before and held out her hand to her left to gesture to something beside them.

"Ron...this is my husband Andrew, Andrew this is Ron."

Ron didn't turn his head. He just stared at Boo with the colour draining from his face and his eyes threatening to engulf his own head as they grew even wider. Boo looked as if she felt very sorry for him and a nervous voice coughed beside them and hurriedly mumbled an excuse to leave.

"Well I was practically out the door already; I'll pick you up at five, nice to meet you Ron. Bye."

Ron swallowed and kept staring at Madam Boo until the footsteps crossed the room and the door closed as Andrew left. Ron whimpered and collapsed into a heap over the desk.

"I can't believe I just did that!" He wailed into his arms as they lay between his head and the desk while Boo conjured a chair underneath him to fall into.

"Don't worry about it Ron, Andrew's fine," Boo smiled consolingly.

"Well good for bloody Andrew!" Ron blurted as his head snapped up, "Of course he's fine, he hasn't just confessed not knowing what to do with his own stiffy in front of a stranger has he?"

"He isn't a judgemental person and he won't laugh about you behind your back." Boo said firmly.

Ron sat back in the chair, slumping down so low he almost unseated himself.

"Oh Merlin's tackle, I never even thought of him finding it funny!"

Madam Boo looked as if she was kicking herself for misjudging her comforting techniques before reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a bag of chocolate covered ginger pieces and picked out a lump for herself before offering some to Ron.

"Chocolate gingers make everything good and warm and comforting again. Just take one and suck in silence for a while." She said through her mouth full of melting dark chocolate.

"So that's your advice on what I should tell Hermione is it?" Ron smirked as he pulled out a piece and chucked it into his open mouth.

"Shut up and enjoy magical therapeutic healing," Boo grinned.

"So," Ron said thickly, "you wanna ask the usual or skip it and get to my dick?"

"Stutter?" Boo said, covering her mouth with her hand politely.

"A couple of times," Ron shrugged, not covering his mouth at all.

"Thought about the Death Eater?"

"Nope," Ron grinned.

"Any letters from him?"

"From his representative, yeah," Ron said before noticing he'd sprayed a little melted chocolate over the desk and wiping it away with his hand.

"Read them?"

"Binned them," Ron answered nonchalantly.

"Did it feel good?"

"Well," Ron said as he swallowed his mouthful, "all I did was throw a ball of parchment into the bin."

"Not that," Boo said as she picked up a tissue and wiped her mouth, "did it feel good to wake up with your girlfriend and feel aroused?"

"Well I always like waking up with her," Ron said thoughtfully, "but I wasn't doing anything to...it wasn't like we were being sexy."

"You weren't trying to get aroused then?"

"No, you said we shouldn't try, just spend time together and for Hermione to sleep over and that's what we did."

Madam Boo took a deep satisfied breath and pulled out another piece of chocolate ginger from the bag.

"Well do it again tonight and this time," she smirked at Ron, "don't whisper if you wake up aroused. Give it something _good_ to listen to!"

* * *

"So say something to me in Dutch," Hermione smiled as she interlaced her fingers with Ron's and rubbed her nose against his while they lay in bed facing each other.

Ron smiled and rolled his eyes.

"I've not got any homework, there's no need to pester me about practising."

"I'm not talking about your lessons," Hermione said as she nudged Ron's foot with hers beneath the covers, "I'm talking about hearing you speaking Dutch. I really like it. I liked the palindrome you came up with last night."

"Oh yeah?" Ron grinned widely.

"Very much yes!" Hermione nodded.

"Lepel," Ron mumbled before encouraging Hermione to roll over so he could spoon with her.

She did as she was told and soon felt Ron's body pressed against her back, his arms curled around her waist, and his breath against her neck.

"Neder sit wort; trow tis reden," Ron sighed, before closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her hair.

Hermione shivered despite not being the least bit cold.

"More, I love it; you sound so like you but so different. Say some more."

"You don't wanna know what I learnt today!" He sniggered, voice low and chest rumbling against her back.

"I really do." She purred.

"Nette zebra bedreef sex; u leidt die luxe sfeer: de bar bezetten!" Ron said with a laugh, "Which basically means, Decent zebra perpetrated sex; you are leading the luxury atmosphere: occupy the bar!"

Hermione laughed in shock before looking over her shoulder at his amused face and crumpled her brow.

"Why on earth did you learn that phrase?"

"Well it's not actually a phrase," Ron shrugged, "I asked the tutor about Dutch palindromes after I came up with that word last night, very impressed with me by the way, and we learnt dozens. Everything I've said in Dutch so far has been a palindrome."

"Oh Ron you know how to get me going...a foreign language and a word game and you!"

Ron nuzzled into her wild mass of hair and smiled.

"Non-onanie is Dutch for non-masturbation, I thought that sounded better than wank drought, I'll tell people me and Madam Boo are working on a programme of non-onanie and they'll be all proud of me rather than...well how they'd react otherwise."

"More palindromes!" Hermione ordered with a blissful grin tugging at her lips.

"Blimey, you have the weirdest idea of sex talk _ever_!" Ron scoffed.

"This isn't sex talk; this is sending-me-off-to-sleep-to-have-sexy-dreams-about-you-talk."

Ron squeezed her tightly around the waist and snuggled his head into the pillow, eyes closing and smiling contentedly.

"Tooi die idioot!"

* * *

_A/N Surprise! Yes, I am updating on a Saturday and hopefully the epilogue will be ready for you tomorrow night and then we're done._

_It'll be Monday at the latest so I'm well and truly done before Deathly Hallows comes out._


	20. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Her smell surrounded him and the bed was warm and soft. It was like he was being swallowed up in a cocoon of Hermione's warmth. His hand was between his legs and he shifted a little to scratch his balls before his knuckles knocked against his dick and he cradled it loosely in his palm and began to slide his hand up and down.

Hermione's lips were on his neck and Ron cracked an eyelid open to see her smiling at him before trailing more kisses along his pulse point. Ron closed his eyes again and audibly sighed as he shifted in the bed and pushed his hips up into the caress of his hand.

"I can't stop touching you," Hermione whispered into his damp skin, thumbs rubbing circles around his nipples.

"Don't stop," he murmured back to her as he wrapped a leg around her body to pull her closer to him.

His hand banged lightly against her stomach as he stroked himself and she grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his dick. Ron's back arched and he started panting excitedly as Hermione tentatively brushed the tips of her fingers against the head of Ron's cock.

"Touch it," Ron gasped, "_please_ touch it!"

"I love you Ron," she said as her hand slid down his length and her fingers curled loosely around it.

Ron's hips lifted off the bed and he pressed himself into her palm.

"Want you!" he strained, breathing heavily and licking his slightly parted lips.

Hermione pressed her breasts against his bare chest, stroked Ron' penis, and kissed his glistening lips delicately but hungrily – as if they were made of melting chocolate.

Ron's hand moved up her back, slid beneath her nightshirt, and caressed her smooth skin. Hermione moved her fingers in a rolling motion and slid her palm up and down a little faster. Ron jerked into her hand once again and moaned into her mouth.

"Prachtige...Prachtige mond!" He yelped ecstatically.

Hermione dove for his mouth to devour a long deep kiss before sliding down his body, chest rising and falling with increasing speed, back arching and writhing and hips grinding against her touch. She kissed and nipped at his neck, his collarbone, his pectoral...

"God I love you," She breathed, lust-filled.

Down lower still, Hermione trailed kisses all the way down Ron's long lean stomach and removed her hand from Ron's cock, causing him to let out a needy whimper. She gripped his bony hips and slithered down further until she was kissing his penis. Kissing, lapping at it and then, finally, she swallowed it with a contented hum.

"Oh..._ik hou van je_!" Ron cried out, hands flying up to his face to cover his exclamation.

Hermione dragged her hands down Ron's parted thighs and rubbed up and down them in time with the rhythm of her neck. Ron was breathing like a marathon runner now and he grabbed a pillow to force over his face so he could scream his orgasm into it without summoning a hoard of worried friends and relations to witness the moment.

Hermione took him as deeply as she could and swallowed against Ron just as he roared into the pillow and almost levitated clean off the bed with the force of his ejaculation.

"Ik hou van je...ik hou van je...I do," Ron gasped as he threw the pillow aside and Hermione crawled back up his limp body, "I really love you!"

Hermione slumped down on top of him and looked utterly delighted.

"If I wasn't so tired I might cry," she said in a blissful daze.

Ron lifted his head and smiled at her dopily.

"Hallo!"

"Hi Ron, welcome back!" Hermione giggled.

"Hoe laat is het?" Ron frowned as he looked around the room panting.

"I Don't speak Dutch Ron," Hermione said as she laid her head upon his chest lazily.

"Wha? Oh, what time is it?" Ron repeated.

"Still morning I think," Hermione mumbled before yawning.

Ron stroked her hair and held her to him as he kissed her through her mass of uncontrollable hair.

"Hoe gaat het?" He asked her thoughtfully.

"Still English Ron," Hermione grinned.

"How're you doing? Y'alright?"

"I am so much better than alright," she beamed up at him.

They kissed happily and held each other for a little longer before the sounds of Ron's mother bashing about in the kitchen made them sit up in the bed and clean themselves up with a quick wave of their wands.

"Wil je koffie?" Ron yawned, wiping his bleary eyes.

"How do you say yes please in Dutch?" Hermione asked, able to understand that last question.

"Huh? Was I doing it again?" Ron said, trying to think back to what he'd just said.

"Post orgasm confusion I think, don't worry, I'd love a coffee. Tell me though, how do you say yes please in Dutch?"

Ron smiled at her and reached for a t shirt to pull on, it was one of Harry's and far too tight – plus it had 'Harry' written on the front but at that moment he didn't really care.

"Ja graag." He said.

"Ja graag," Hermione said with a dignified nod and a naughty smile.

"I wonder what Boo and Andrew will make of this!" Ron snorted before leaving the room and heading off downstairs.

Hermione frowned and started into space in bewilderment.

"Who the hell is Andrew?"

* * *

The cell door creaked open and Ron stepped inside. At first the Death Eater cowered away from the light but as the door swung closed again he blinked and focused on Ron standing before him. 

"You!" he gasped, "You came back."

Ron looked around the cell as he wandered around it thoughtfully, not looking at the Death Eater as he struggled to sit up properly from his spot in the corner.

"They clean away the shit then, that's nice" Ron said with a smile, "you get food and water too so I'm told." Ron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before looking down at the man at his feet, "so why exactly is it I'm supposed to feel sorry for you again?"

"Boy..." the Death Eater grunted as he tried to get to his feet, "...I know of your conditions in that place but you at least had hope of getting out no?"

"Don't get up," Ron said, looking down at the man with distaste and waving a dismissive hand at him, "and no, impending execution wasn't any kind of hope you moron."

The man sagged back into the dank corner and lowered his head.

"Whatever you think of me, I helped you boy, and you owe me."

Ron crouched down before the Death Eater.

"Do you want to know what I think of you?" he asked with an emotionless expression on his face, "I think you joined the Death Eaters because you thought they were the winning team. Forget all the prejudices and morals and shit, you actually joined not because of the cause but because they were winning."

Ron smiled very slightly as the man blinked back up at him wordlessly.

"Then they weren't winning any more but you'd showed your true colours and then you were buggered weren't you?" Ron laughed a little before continuing, "So your next course of action was to stay alive. You were on the losing team, everybody was after you on a shoot to kill basis, and your main objective was not to die."

"Listen," the Death Eater began, "I can explain abo-"

"I've not finished yet," Ron said with a friendly grin, "and seeing as you've asked me a very big favour I'd think you'd want to stay on my good side and not interrupt me when I'm talking wouldn't you?"

"Alsjeblieft..." The Death Eater said as he tried to crawl towards Ron and grab the hem of his robes.

"Y'see you killed people to stay alive," Ron said as he paced up and down the small cell, well out of reach of the clawing hand of the Death Eater, "You tortured people and persecuted the innocent and you cooked and served a human being to other starving human beings...possibly ate a bit of him yourself for all I know..."

"Never!" The man barked furiously.

"You did everything you could just so you could stay alive." Ron smirked down at the man, "You let me go so you could run away without having to fight. You didn't spare me, you didn't even untie my bloody hands, you did nothing but run away rather than chase and recapture your prisoner."

"I let you escape," the man wheezed in desperation.

"You did nothing!" Ron yelled, "You only cared about getting out alive. All that matters to you is staying alive. Now...now you have to live like this and suddenly I owe you a death do I? Not bloody likely!"

Ron crouched before the man again and glared at him bitterly.

"If you were even remotely sorry about what you'd done I might have actually thought about it, but you're not so I didn't. I didn't give you a thought until now."

The man stared at Ron in horror.

"Please...jongen, waaro-"

"You wanted to live so badly...well I'm going to make sure you bloody well do you pathetic little klootzak! You're gonna live in here until the higher powers decide you've done your time and end you. You're going to live out the rest of your natural life..." Ron narrowed his glinting eyes as he leaned right into the man's face, "just like you wanted!"

Just as the Death Eater lunged for Ron he sprung back and banged on the cell door for the guard to let him out again.

"I will send letters every day!" the Death Eater warned, threateningly, "You will never be able to forget as long as I am alive. I will not let you!"

The door opened and Ron looked back at the man and smiled.

"I use your letters to line the bottom of my owl's cage. You don't honestly think I'd waste good paper on owl shit do you _eikel_?"

"You are as bad as me if you let me rot _jongen_!" The man hissed angrily.

"You said it yourself Mr Eberman," Ron shrugged, "walking away from an enemy and letting them save themselves is a truly great gift...and now I've returned the favour. We're even. Goodbye!"

* * *

Madam Boo was sitting in her office and wondering if she should have a late lunch or an early dinner when she heard the knock on her door. She smiled, ever cautious since he'd met Andrew, Ron would always knock now. Although he was much later than he would normally be. His visits fewer and farther between ever since he and his girlfriend had broken down the intimacy barrier. 

"Come in," she called out, putting away some case notes and reaching for a broken quill to set on the table just in case Ron needed to drill any further into the wood of her desk.

The door opened and closed. Soft footsteps made their way across the carpet and Boo looked up with a frown, if Ron was treading softly then he was having a bad day, only she didn't see Ron standing before her at all.

"Hi," the young black man said, hair a stack of dreadlocks and nervous smile breaking across his face, "I'm a friend of Ron Weasley's and he said...he thought...well I asked..."

"You'd like somebody to talk to Lee?" Boo smiled, knowing instantly who this friend of Ron's was from the many conversations they'd had about him.

Lee nodded and pulled up a chair.

"So you are struggling with life on the outside?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"Well, it's different and it can be rough but no, that's not why I wanted to talk to you...to someone." Lee shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"All right," Boo nodded, "why don't you take your time and tell me what's troubling you?"

Lee drew in a deep breath and let it out before leaning over the desk and sliding his finger up and down the groove in the desk his red haired brother had carved during sessions.

"See the thing is..." Lee began before stopping, "What it is...What's been making me so obsessive about taking care of Ron..."

Boo waited patiently during the lengthy pause Lee left before dropping his head into his hands with a huff and growling.

"I'd do anything for him," Lee said, looking up at Madam Boo intensely, she nodded and he continued, "I want him to be happy and safe and I never want him to feel the way that bastard made him feel. He made Ron feel disgusting, disgusted with himself, and he's not and he shouldn't be!"

"So why are you still troubled?" Boo asked, "Aren't you convinced that Ron's progress is genuine?"

"No, it is, I know it is! He's been great," Lee smiled before crumpling again and rubbing his hand against his forehead, "My life was about protecting him. Protecting him from feeling threatened and worrying about being perved on or touched when he doesn't want to be and the whole time I'm keeping him in the dark and it's killing me."

Boo shuffled forward in her seat and bowed her head to meet Lee's eyes.

"You're keeping a secret from Ron that you think will set back his progress?"

"Yeah," Lee nodded, "and ruin our friendship and our trust and...what if he thinks back to me sneaking into his bedroom at night and takes it to be something it's not?"

"What are you saying Lee?" Boo pushed a little, kindness radiating from her eyes.

"What if he finds out I'm gay and thinks I've been trying to get close to him in the same way the Puppet Master did when I don't think of him like that? He's my brother Madam Boo, it's not like that with him but...the only gay man Ron's ever known tried to rape him! How can I tell him that I'm like that? How can I tell anyone?"

Boo reached across the desk to offer her hand to Lee, who took it immediately, and she smiled confidently.

"The Puppet Master wasn't a homosexual, Lee," she said calmly, "to be a homosexual is to have feelings of love for a member of the same sex."

"But..." Lee began, unsure of what exactly he was going to say.

"If a man tried to rape a woman would you have described it as a heterosexual act?" Boo asked him simply.

"No," Lee blinked, "no that's not what I mean."

"If Ron is a heterosexual man and he heard that another heterosexual man had raped a woman would he then believe that all heterosexual men are like that?"

"No but this is different!" Lee said with a frustrated huff.

"Ron won't think that all gay men are a threat to him because Ron is wiser that he's given credit for, even by him himself."

Lee nodded.

"He is; he's great."

"Yes, he will remember all the times you slept at his side and held him close to you and you took care of him because he doesn't have that kind of love from his brothers and friends and girlfriend. It's a different kind of love but he'll know the difference between you loving your new brother, the person you saw suffer so much emotional and physical pain, and the obsessive sexual control the Puppet Master tried to have over him."

"But how will I explain it to him so he understands I never took care of him for any other reason? How will I explain to his brothers and his mum and dad? What do I say to Harry? What do I say to Hermione? '_I'm sorry I came between you and your boyfriend but it had nothing to do with me wanting to be with him like that!_'"

"Lee," Boo asked as she squeezed his hand, "have you had trouble letting go of your closeness with Ron because you thought you'd lose him for good when he found out?"

Lee bowed his head and let out a shuddering breath.

"I was the only one he ever trusted to touch him...how could I take that away from him?"

"He's stronger now though isn't he?" Boo smiled.

Lee lifted his head and smiled a devastated smile while nodding.

"Yeah."

"And now you think it might be time to look after yourself and let Ron help you through your problems?"

Lee swallowed but didn't say anything.

"That man damaged you too Lee," Boo said with sympathy, "he made you doubt your intentions towards your brother and you need to know that you can still be close to Ron, you can still be physically affectionate with him just like before, and neither of you will think there's anything sinister about it."

Lee took Boo's hand with both of his.

"I'm ready to stop lying to him about who I am," Lee said shakily, "I'm just not sure I'm brave enough yet."

Boo smiled at him, released his hands and reached down into her desk drawer to pull out a small paper bag.

"Well today I've got peanut brittle," she said as she pulled out a knobbly chunk of peanuts coated in hard toffee and bit into it with some considerable effort before holding out the bag to Lee, "wanna break a tooth with me?"

* * *

Harry walked through the back field behind the Burrow until he found Ron, in full on recline mode, and sat down beside him. 

"I've been thinking," Harry said as he lay back on his elbows beside his best mate, "about when we move out into our own place."

"Oh yeah?" Ron said as he turned his head and squinted up at Harry.

"Yeah," Harry nodded thoughtfully, "first of all, you're not painting it orange!"

Ron cackled and looked back up at the wide open sky above them.

"Alright then, what else?"

"Well separate rooms obviously, now that you and Hermione are back on and me and Ginny are simmering away nicely..."

"Me and Hermione were never off!" Ron said with a tut, "and please, no talk of turning up the heat with my little sister...I've been traumatised enough!"

Harry sniggered.

"Oh yeah, there's that other thing, the last and most important thing of all."

"Rent," Ron groaned, "Gimme time mate, I'll be earning soon, I promise, and then we can start checking out some places t-"

"Rent's not important you twat!" Harry huffed, "I'm talking about proper important stuff."

Ron sat up on his elbows and raised both eyebrows with amused curiosity.

"Go on then."

"Remember how much you used to hate it when I went off on my own, tried to leave you behind to keep you safe and then had bad stuff happen to me?"

Ron nodded.

"Uh-huh."

"Well now I know what it feels like to be on the other side of that so we have to make a deal okay?"

"What kinda deal?" Ron asked with a growing smile.

"The kind of deal where we swear never to leave the other one behind again. If something big comes up I want you with me and if the same happens to you I wanna be there."

"You didn't _leave_ me in Venlo Harry," Ron said as he rolled his eyes.

"No, I left you at the Ministry to go and meet people in expensive suits who wanted to shake the Chosen One's hand. You waited for me for hours and I let them drag me off to that stupid function and watched Moody lead you off on the mission to Holland seeing as '_you weren't doing anything'_."

Ron sat right up in the grass and extended his hand for Harry to shake.

"We don't let that happen again." He said with a confident smile.

Harry took Ron's hand firmly and shook it, beaming all over his face.

"If they don't want the two of us together...then they don't really want us at all."

"Excuse me," Hermione said, clearing her throat as she cast a shadow over them, hands on hips, "the _two_ of us?"

"As per the rules of what constitutes '_half-a-person'_ there are only two of us," Ron said cockily, "one whole me and the two halves of you!"

Hermione flung herself at Ron as he laughed loudly and Harry joined them in a '_two halves against one whole_' tickle wresting match that lasted until sunset.

**End**

* * *

_A/N So there ya go!_

_I hope that was what you were all hoping for when you asked for a recovery fic. I know some of you were expecting a one-shot but after all I did to them I couldn't really do much healing in one chapter could I?_

_As ever, I don't go in for the 'It's magic so you can just wave a wand and fix anything' crap, I try to write for the characters and not the fantasy universe._

_I will probably be back whatever happens in Deathly Hallows but not right away. Remember, I posted my first ever fic in September 2005, months after Half Blood Prince, so I may take a moment to adjust to the final canon of the Potterverse. I'll be having an experiment over on Live Journal so look over there if you miss me!_

_I hope everybody gets what they want out of the book unless they want Harry to end up with Hermione, Percy dead or Ginny to end up being Harry's reason for living...those things will make me angry!_

_Snogs and Hob-Nobs to the following people:_

_The lovely beta-team Deena and Maaike and of course Amy for all her help with Boo._

_The Steppy One_

_Scrib_

_Shocolate_

_Maple and Mahogany_

_Jocap_

_Cat_

_Ash_

_My Quizzical_

_Yaara_

_Shaesmom_

_Kerry_

_Annie_

_Raven Wolfmoon_

_Rupertlovesme (say hi to your sister from me too Beth!)_

_Heyrupert_

_Thelevy_

_Charma10_

_Dreadnok_

_Grangerinvestigations_

_Spiceoflife_

_Talley_

_Kerosinkantiser (I think I spelled that wrong)_

_Minathia_

_Frodofreak_

_Granolabean_

_Worldsweweave_

_Draconifers_

_Kat_

_Amieam_

_Foxyie rox_

_Xedra_

_Hermione and Ron together forever (oh what will you call yourself if we get screwed by JKR???? lol)_

_Risie_

_Gwen_

_Ktmarsh_

_Tweedldani_

_And all the rest of you who take the time to review._

_Special love to my flist over on Live Journal._

_See you on the other side of Book 7!_

_**Solstice Muse**_


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